Sweet(I Hope!) Singing in the Kitchen

Over the years in my counseling practice I have seen a condition I call “if only” thinking. These individuals land in the counseling chair, greatly depressed and agitated by this particular way of seeing things. Such philosophy knows no boundary. It can affect man or woman, any race, any economic status. Essentially, viewing life is a continuous effort to acquire and accomplish. From early morning dawn to evening starlight, there is a pondering of mind, a stomping of foot. There is so much effort, but so little satisfaction—like chasing after a feather eluding their grasp.

Indeed this individual, a woman this time in chair, is in great distress. What is heard is the flowing dialog of the “if only”. If only her childhood had been better, if only she could find another job, if only she could finish school, get married, have children …. The list goes on. Because once the coveted item is in hand, the very next moment the chase begins again. No time given to savor. Then presented is the inquiry, what are you longing for? If you acquired all the “if onlys”, all these desires, what would happen?

“Then,” with a wry smile this woman replies, “I would be truly happy.”

In the world I live in, this is hardly so. Just when all the pieces are falling into place, invariably something goes awry. But sometimes that serendipitous moment happens when desires are fulfilled and there is a grand firecracker of gladness. Yet this happiness can quickly flee, morphing into the “if-only” place— because there could always be more. Instead of a contented bridge between attainments there is the mortar of upset and angst.

What is happiness … really?

Happiness. I closed my eyes and considered times when there was a sense of inner contentment and all was well with the world. I saw myself as young person who was making hearty meals and had signed up for evening coursework paid by earnings from a satisfying job. I had also purchased a fine pair of walking shoes and was able to enjoy the majesty of nature while taking long trail hikes with special friends.

Life was good.

But then I broke my arm and lost my job. Eyes still closed were fluttering. I recalled the even longer times when enduring much duress. Setting on the kitchen table was a depressing pile of rejection letters from employers. The refrigerator solely boasted a few condiments and half dozen eggs. The rent was overdue and my rusty car was coughing. All was not well with the world. These were highly stressful moments, drowning me in thoughts of “if-only" - anxiety, sadness, confusion.

But in the midst of such turmoil was a feeling that all would work out, that among the many things gone wrong, the situation would somehow improve. Morning prayer became a must. Leaving the foothold of despair, I made claim to hope. So deciding, the stereo blasted the latest tunes as I burst into song. Increased inner strength grew; encouragement was received from dear friends and family as well as from vibrant spiritual direction. This melody kept on flowing.

The way I see it, life is lived mostly in the valley, the waiting station of life. Life is also experienced at the mountain peak, a grand, awesome witness to life. Those in the valley raise their heads, wishing to scale those cliffs, while those atop succumb to blizzard conditions and work their way down. The mournful dirge of "if only" I could climb this mountain and so be happy flips with the woeful lament "if only" the blizzard would let up.

Indeed life is best lived in both places, allowing the green pastured valley to nourish and restore strength so as to scale the craggy terrain to the top. Happiness, that sense of inner peace and contentment, can be embraced in both. Why yield to “if-only” thinking if what is in hand can be appreciated? While in the valley, I would rather squeeze out the goodness and embrace some pleasure. And for me, singing in the kitchen can help.

Life can always be good.

… and that’s how I live it.