Monday, December 18: The Stable
My daughter was always most joyful when she was grooming or riding a horse. Even though we live in a rural area, it hasn't always been easy to get horse lessons. I sometimes regret not biting the bullet and buying a horse for her--though really, that would have been a little insane, given that I know literally nothing about caring for horses.
But she caught on quickly, and being with her mentor's horse Honey during her first year with me, even now, ranks among her most joyful memories.
This season, I am trying to reclaim the things that make me most joyful, and encouraging others around me to do the same. I am asking my students in our last meeting what has made them most excited about school this last semester, what they're most excited about for next semester--and what they plan to do to care for themselves this break. So many of them work so hard, and end up sort of doing whatever comes up for fun, rather than really thinking about how they want to use their time.
If Henri Nouwen is correct, and our lives are supposed to be about finding what makes us most joyful and using whatever that is to make the world a better place, many of us may be doing that in the big picture. But how many of us are doing that in our small, daily actions?
Writing each day is one way I'm reclaiming my joy. Finding a new horse teacher for my daughter is a way I am encouraging her to reclaim hers. I've learned now that our other residents have particular obsessions, but instead of trying to encourage them to start preparing for careers in those areas, I'm trying instead to attend to the daily conversations, to find small ways to connect around what makes them happiest. The bigger picture may come later if we encourage the small joys.
When I think about the Christmas stable, I imagine the smell of hay--one of my most favorite smells because I associate it with my daughter's deepest joy moments.
But she caught on quickly, and being with her mentor's horse Honey during her first year with me, even now, ranks among her most joyful memories.
This season, I am trying to reclaim the things that make me most joyful, and encouraging others around me to do the same. I am asking my students in our last meeting what has made them most excited about school this last semester, what they're most excited about for next semester--and what they plan to do to care for themselves this break. So many of them work so hard, and end up sort of doing whatever comes up for fun, rather than really thinking about how they want to use their time.
If Henri Nouwen is correct, and our lives are supposed to be about finding what makes us most joyful and using whatever that is to make the world a better place, many of us may be doing that in the big picture. But how many of us are doing that in our small, daily actions?
Writing each day is one way I'm reclaiming my joy. Finding a new horse teacher for my daughter is a way I am encouraging her to reclaim hers. I've learned now that our other residents have particular obsessions, but instead of trying to encourage them to start preparing for careers in those areas, I'm trying instead to attend to the daily conversations, to find small ways to connect around what makes them happiest. The bigger picture may come later if we encourage the small joys.
When I think about the Christmas stable, I imagine the smell of hay--one of my most favorite smells because I associate it with my daughter's deepest joy moments.
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