My weekend....and some reflections/revelations.
I discovered a lot of things this weekend:
1. If you're coughing, it probably means you're sick. Not that you must have worked out too hard when you went on that elliptical machine for about fifteen minutes.
2. Being sick IS just as bad as I remembered!
3. Losing all sense of time is actually really interesting. I would sleep for variable numbers of hours, wake, maybe eat some part of a meal or read my book in the middle of the night, go back to sleep, visit someone for a while (probably infecting them), sleep...quite interesting. I didn't do any work the whoooooole weekend.
4. Whole weekends of not doing work mean that you end up absolutely screwed.
5. When you are operating at half your normal energy and you haven't practiced all weekend, you have discovered the formula for how to lose a concerto competition. Bah! I have been practicing for that since June, and I was really ready. Really, really ready, and I sounded great, but I messed up this ONE PART and I lost almost as a direct result. (But my very dear friend/favorite oboist in the world won, and so I'm not too disappointed.)
6. My contentedness is no longer as simple as I thought it was:
Okay so I'm happy. It has been established. I am rarely sad, when I am it isn't for long, and I experience joy on a regular basis. It's nice.
But then again, what is happiness without sadness? There are supposed to be ups and downs, no? So when I say that I really miss sadness I feel like it is a legitimate concern, not just a sign that I take my contentedness for granted. I really like my life, but I also worry that my general happiness is cheapened by my lack of an equally strong contrasting emotion. So lately I've been wishing that I could really have my heart broken or something. Just once, for some period of time, experience some very severe gut wrenching sadness...you know, something that would make me want to write a really bad poem and get a haircut that doesn't allow me to see through my bangs and stop bathing for a while. Or something. But something that feels as powerful as melancholia can be, just so that I can really feel in touch with myself again. After a while, pleasure and satisfaction (and even joy) all start to feel the same.
So, I had a shitty weekend overall. Or, I had the sort of weekend that should be classified as shitty. I was really sick, I didn't get to do any of the things I needed to (which might result in me losing a very important job, not being able to go abroad, and getting off to a very bad start in a couple of classes.) I also lost the one thing I've been working up to for the last eight months, practicing almost two hours every day for the last month and a half, etc. But all that is okay with me. All that stuff is just the stuff I deal with, and it doesn't make me sad or even feel worse about my life. It's hard to be discouraged when you're enjoying little things so much, like the weather, or your friends, or literary analysis.
But yesterday I had the saddest day. It wasn't a bad day, but some things happened that made me really upset (they aren't important right now, so I don't think I want to go into them), and I finally felt like I was getting it again. I was deeply rooted again because of the sadness I was experiencing, rather than feeling shallowly content. Ironically, it was an enjoyable feeling. I was SAD. I was all those things that go along with that particular emotion. Pick a handful of dramatic words out of the stereotype bag: overwhelmed, upset, terrified, confused, anxious. Most of them certainly described me in that state. And it was quite fulfilling. I definitely need sadness in my life, if only to refresh my understanding of the rest of what I feel.
It was a bit like watering a plant. This morning everything was still weird, but as I went through my day I started noticing that my outlook on things was completely different. Not more cynical or optimistic or anything concrete like that. It's hard to describe, but perhaps...I saw different kinds of beauty in the things that I reflected on than those that normally strike me. The images that landed in my mind were of a different nature from those that were there two days ago. I had new thoughts and ideas about things, and a new outlook. I started thinking about ways in which I'm actually becoming a different person in the long term, comparing myself to the me of a few years ago, a few months ago, more recent me's. I heard different music in my head while I was thinking. (Wow those last few lines make me sound like a nutcase, but that's actually what my conscious thought process is like.) It was interesting. Quite enlightening, too.
My dad told me over dinner last night that the Buddhists say that happiness is the natural human state. In some ways I think that's true (for me, at least). But does natural mean most fulfilling? And does that mean that it isn't natural to need to be sad now and then? I guess I'm just wondering about balance: whether it's necessary or whether it's a myth, and if it is true that I need a balance between happiness and sadness, it doesn't seem really desirable to wish for a full 50% sadness. Where does that delicate level lie at which I can really keep myself satisfied and joyful, but also stimulated?
1. If you're coughing, it probably means you're sick. Not that you must have worked out too hard when you went on that elliptical machine for about fifteen minutes.
2. Being sick IS just as bad as I remembered!
3. Losing all sense of time is actually really interesting. I would sleep for variable numbers of hours, wake, maybe eat some part of a meal or read my book in the middle of the night, go back to sleep, visit someone for a while (probably infecting them), sleep...quite interesting. I didn't do any work the whoooooole weekend.
4. Whole weekends of not doing work mean that you end up absolutely screwed.
5. When you are operating at half your normal energy and you haven't practiced all weekend, you have discovered the formula for how to lose a concerto competition. Bah! I have been practicing for that since June, and I was really ready. Really, really ready, and I sounded great, but I messed up this ONE PART and I lost almost as a direct result. (But my very dear friend/favorite oboist in the world won, and so I'm not too disappointed.)
6. My contentedness is no longer as simple as I thought it was:
Okay so I'm happy. It has been established. I am rarely sad, when I am it isn't for long, and I experience joy on a regular basis. It's nice.
But then again, what is happiness without sadness? There are supposed to be ups and downs, no? So when I say that I really miss sadness I feel like it is a legitimate concern, not just a sign that I take my contentedness for granted. I really like my life, but I also worry that my general happiness is cheapened by my lack of an equally strong contrasting emotion. So lately I've been wishing that I could really have my heart broken or something. Just once, for some period of time, experience some very severe gut wrenching sadness...you know, something that would make me want to write a really bad poem and get a haircut that doesn't allow me to see through my bangs and stop bathing for a while. Or something. But something that feels as powerful as melancholia can be, just so that I can really feel in touch with myself again. After a while, pleasure and satisfaction (and even joy) all start to feel the same.
So, I had a shitty weekend overall. Or, I had the sort of weekend that should be classified as shitty. I was really sick, I didn't get to do any of the things I needed to (which might result in me losing a very important job, not being able to go abroad, and getting off to a very bad start in a couple of classes.) I also lost the one thing I've been working up to for the last eight months, practicing almost two hours every day for the last month and a half, etc. But all that is okay with me. All that stuff is just the stuff I deal with, and it doesn't make me sad or even feel worse about my life. It's hard to be discouraged when you're enjoying little things so much, like the weather, or your friends, or literary analysis.
But yesterday I had the saddest day. It wasn't a bad day, but some things happened that made me really upset (they aren't important right now, so I don't think I want to go into them), and I finally felt like I was getting it again. I was deeply rooted again because of the sadness I was experiencing, rather than feeling shallowly content. Ironically, it was an enjoyable feeling. I was SAD. I was all those things that go along with that particular emotion. Pick a handful of dramatic words out of the stereotype bag: overwhelmed, upset, terrified, confused, anxious. Most of them certainly described me in that state. And it was quite fulfilling. I definitely need sadness in my life, if only to refresh my understanding of the rest of what I feel.
It was a bit like watering a plant. This morning everything was still weird, but as I went through my day I started noticing that my outlook on things was completely different. Not more cynical or optimistic or anything concrete like that. It's hard to describe, but perhaps...I saw different kinds of beauty in the things that I reflected on than those that normally strike me. The images that landed in my mind were of a different nature from those that were there two days ago. I had new thoughts and ideas about things, and a new outlook. I started thinking about ways in which I'm actually becoming a different person in the long term, comparing myself to the me of a few years ago, a few months ago, more recent me's. I heard different music in my head while I was thinking. (Wow those last few lines make me sound like a nutcase, but that's actually what my conscious thought process is like.) It was interesting. Quite enlightening, too.
My dad told me over dinner last night that the Buddhists say that happiness is the natural human state. In some ways I think that's true (for me, at least). But does natural mean most fulfilling? And does that mean that it isn't natural to need to be sad now and then? I guess I'm just wondering about balance: whether it's necessary or whether it's a myth, and if it is true that I need a balance between happiness and sadness, it doesn't seem really desirable to wish for a full 50% sadness. Where does that delicate level lie at which I can really keep myself satisfied and joyful, but also stimulated?