Call me strange.
Not quite the epic beginning as Moby Dick’s “Call me Ishmael.” But it will do.
No I’m not starting a novel, don’t worry. I just find myself reviewing my life lately. Which is something I usually avoid religiously, especially if I’m a bit overtired.
What I stumbled on in my revelry and self-scoriation was this bit of wisdom and light:
“A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones.” – Proverbs 17:22
Those fifteen words, strung together in the specific order they’re in, have made a world of difference for me.
(Photo credit: Brenda Anderson)
I took life so seriously, for so many years. I didn’t see much room for laughter or joking, for silliness or play. And then a series of people taught me without even trying, that there needs to be, and can be, joy amid the sorrow and laughter even when the world is pressing in.
Some days I think the only thing that gets me through is the ability to smile in spite of it all.
And some days seem filled to the brim with joy and laughter.
Stumbling on the idea of intentional happiness as a daily balm, a kind of lotion for my soul, has made all the difference.
I choose to see the positive. At least I try to.
Call me strange.
Kami's Beautiful Morning 