Hey You, Is Your Life GOOD?

Jonathan Fields, host of The Good Life Project podcast, always ends conversation with guests with this question:

“How do you define the ‘good life?’ What does a ‘good life”’look like to you?”

Human science expert Brene Brown answered, “ A good life happens when you stop and are grateful for the ordinary moments that so many of us seem to steamroll over to try to find those extraordinary moments. To me, my good life is soccer practice and carpool line. And tuck-ins. And date night. That’s the good life for me. And knowing it’s good. Acknowledging and stopping and saying that it’s good.”

What’s interesting to me is what she didn’t say.

No mention at all of being grateful to write six New York Times best-selling books, host two podcasts, or hold a research fellowship at the University of Houston. She didn’t have to say that she’s the premier voice for courage and empathy. Those are the things that define her work.

And her life is not defined by her work.

The good life is all these little things.
Easily within reach of any one of us.

And this isn’t new information. Kurt Vonnegut once said, “Enjoy the little things in life because one day you’ll look back and realize they were the big things.”

(***We all nod our heads and murmur in agreement. ****)

Some things we have to discover on our own.

It’s our experience that changes how we perceive the present.

As I sit here writing this, my new kitten is basking in a patch of sunlight, and my other kitten is nestled against my back and the chair. They both got so excited when I opened a package of treats earlier today.

I started thinking about my own small things journey.

• Walking out of a cold building and into the hot August sun (am I the only one that loves that?)

• A surprise thundershower this afternoon that brought with it a cool breeze.

• Finding a bag of my favorite chips hidden in the pantry.

• A package waiting for me on the front porch.

Dr. Brown said we should stop and acknowledge that it’s good.

And this is where I struggle.

Because when I’m in a big room and someone asks me about my life, these little things sound pathetic when I say them out loud. And I know that’s a “me” problem, not a “them” problem. I’m the one who needs to come to terms with my good life.

It really is so, so good.

Want more good stuff?

Experience is Never Wasted

My favorite jeans have a hole in the knee.

I always thought it looked cool until one day, I stuck my foot inside, accidentally caught my heel on the edge of the rip, and ended up tearing through the entire leg.

My pants were ruined!

And you’ve done this, too, right? There’s a loose thread on a pair of socks. You pull it just a bit so the string isn’t just hanging there, and before you know it, you’ve created one giant hole. I didn’t grow up on a prairie, so I don’t know how to darn a hole.

But I do know how to say “DARN!”

My oldest son is a senior.

And Darn! It feels like so many of his plans have been ruined.

He had a really fun year planned.

• A trip to Iceland with his grandfather.

• A graduation party featuring a taco truck and axe throwing.

• A summer working as a camp counselor at one of his favorite places in the world.

All canceled.

On the surface, these things seemed like minor snags in the big picture, but when you add them all up, my son is left with a giant void in what promised to be the summer of a lifetime.

If his summer was a sock, it’s ruined.

I always say pain is temporary, and so I know we will survive the disappointment. But I want to do more than survive. And if I want to do more than survive, then that means I’m going to figure out something new to do with the torn pair of jeans and the holey sock.

If my life was a sock, that would be easy. I could make a sock puppet or a dust mitt.

If my life was a pair of jeans, I could make a purse.

So why am I having so much trouble with THIS?
Isn’t quarantine the same thing?

I wish…(SIGH)

My fear is that I won’t be able to think of anything cool to do.

But this is my promise.

I’m not going to throw away what we’ve lost. I’m going to figure out how to use it, how to turn it into something useful and good. I don’t know what that looks like yet, but I’ll keep you posted.

This is what I do know: Experience is never wasted. God can use it all.