Miserable Happiness

The title got ya, didn't it?

"I'm only happy when it rains
I'm only happy when it's complicated
And though I know you can't appreciate it
I'm only happy when it rains."
                 ---Garbage "Only Happy When it Rains"

I mostly include those lyrics simply because it is an excuse to proclaim my celebrity crush on Shirley Manson. I loved their first two albums, I'd be lying if I claimed otherwise regardless of how bad their pop 90s punk may have been. Technically, I hate it when it rains.  It depresses me. So there's that.

As I wrote in a previous post, I hate that I am seen as negative, an Eeyore clone or a buzz kill.  I wish I wasn't that way and I am working on it.

But there is truth to it. I'm reminded of it repeatedly this summer.

My sister and I have (and some other friends on Facebook) taken part in an exercise in which we post things that make us happy for 100 straight days.  I think I may be past the 100 days or I may be coming close, but it has become a good habit that I plan to continue regardless of the number.

This exercise forces me out of my old habit of seeking what is wrong as if listing all the bad gives me some kind of control over it.

But these old habits don't die easily.  This one has been formed over 30 years of hard work.  I can't expect it to change in just over 3 months!

In addition, I have worked very hard to change the way I think and talk with varying results, some success, lots of failure. I have meditated.  I have confided in trusted friends and family.  I have even sought professional help and support.  I have purposely exercised more and used this exercise to sort through thoughts.  I was reading as well until the weather warmed and I found myself preferring to be more active. I'm trying to slowly crowd out the bad with good.

But it has been extremely difficult and revealed some sobering realizations, epiphanies, if you will.

One such eye opening revelation came in a conversation with my sister who said she wakes up every day happy.  It is natural for her.  She really doesn't need the exercise like I do, but continues to finish what she started I assume.

Wakes up happy?  Naturally?

What the....?

Like a slap in the face, this hurt.

I always felt and thought and claimed that beneath my shield of pessimism that protects me from let downs and disappointments (but really doesn't), I was really an optimist and very happy.

The simple statement from my sister struck me.  It was clear to me that I am not like that.  I never wake up happy.

I work at it.  I work really hard.

The thing is, I shouldn't have to work.  I am reminded by myself as well as countless others of how blessed I am and how lucky I am and grateful I should be.

I am grateful.  I write gratitude lists, I think gratitude lists frequently.  My meditations often are purposeful thoughts of these things because they make me happy.

So why aren't I just happy?

My high school yearbook from my senior year had a box with a list of several students including me and one word to describe us.

My word?

Happy.

Wait.  What?  How the?

I swear to you that this is true.  I would cite the page number if I wasn't too lazy to go dig through my crawl space in my basement to find the box with my yearbook in it.  You will have to trust me on this.  I really have no benefit in making this up.

So basically I am a fraud. I've been living a lie to myself.

This brings me to where I am today.  What makes me truly happy without effort, like my sister?

I have confided in a close friend I hold in high regard.  We have been corresponding and actually helping each other out.  It is a true definition of support system.  I expressed how music has found its way into my meditations this week and how much it has helped.  I am not sure that is how it is supposed to work.  But he understood.  Music is magical he wrote.  He has found similar value, but his own value, in it.

I don't have to put forth effort with the right music. It takes me to a place I want to be on its own.  I think about my children, sunny days, baseball games, floating in a pool on a hot day, lying in the snow listening to the silence of winter and letting the cold take over, blank feelings like excitement, satisfaction, coolness, warmth and so on.

But in the end, I think the effort I am putting forth may be defeating the purpose.  As I continue, I seek how I can truly, for real, let go and allow the happy to come to the surface.  Stop thinking so much.

Until then, I will probably keep finding misery in this happiness.

Where Should Sports Fall In Our Brain Space Of Interest?

Let's pretend we have a finite amount of space in our heads for interests and concerns and attention.  We can only fit so much and address it all effectively. When we gain a new interest, we need to make room somehow.  In order to handle it all, we need to prioritize things and compartmentalize them.  Where do sports and where should sports fit in all of this?

This is an attempt on my part to reflect on this using the recent sports news as a model. This isn't award worthy writing, mine never is though.  Think of this as more stream of consciousness.

I am a Cleveland Cavaliers fan.

The good news this past Friday that LeBron James, arguable the best player in the NBA right now, will return home to play for my Cavs has stirred a hurricane of emotion for me and I imagine many of my fellow fans who look beyond the simple reaction of renewed relevance and winning for our team.

Obviously, I am thrilled at the prospects of my team winning a title.  But I am struggling with the conflicting feelings of resolving my animosity towards LeBron James for leaving the first time.  My stubborn tendencies create an inner turmoil I can't seem to shake.

Most of my friends have quickly forgotten their bitterness, some were not as bitter as I was and more accepting. But I was pissed.

How do I come out of this looking anything other than a contradicting fool?

Honestly, I don't even care. It is sports.  Not real life.  Just recreation and entertainment.  My obsession with sports is often belittled using this point, so why not use it in my favor as well?

Fan is short for fanatical and this is an arena where I have always figured it was safe to use my emotion as my reasoning instead of logic, facts or anything that would be wise to use in decision making because after all, it is just sports, not something important.

I'll save calm, balanced, thought out reasoning and rationality for my job, parenting, relationships and driving.

But this also provides an opportunity to examine where sports falls in my life.

The week leading up to LeBron's announcement, I was obsessed with it.  My interest in it was unhealthy.  I can admit this. We just spent a week feeding this ego-maniacal athlete while countless problems were littering the news.  

What is wrong with our (my) priorities?

Like I said, I often hear, "Huey, it's just sports."

Or, "Sports aren't really important."

But I am not willing to admit that my interest in sports or an interest in sports is negative.  

While there are people making billions of dollars off us and I do not like it as they raise costs for me and my family to enjoy the entertainment they sell, I stand by my claim that sports is a legitimate and important aspect of our lifestyle.

It is an avenue to bring people together and create bonds.

This can be between people who normally would not have anything in common with each other.  Maybe people who normally disagree and cannot see eye to eye and find themselves building animosity among each other, find this connection through sports and are able to coexist.  Suddenly, sports aren't so superficial.

It happens.  I see it.

Through games, there is a structure that brings people together.  We gather to watch games, break bread and drink.  We share excitement, anticipation, anxiety, exhilaration, agony, happiness, satisfaction, anger and loss....together.  

That instinctive need to be part of a group is satisfied as we join others supporting our city, university, country, team.  In the end, unlike war, nobody dies.  We play again.

Usually.

On the other hand, sports also open up opportunities for hatred and animosity.  In my case, my behavior towards LeBron James after he left my Cleveland Cavaliers.  My behavior towards fans from TTUN back in the 90s.  All of this is tame in comparison to many things you read in the news.

With that said, these instances are more rare and common.  The brotherhood that exists even between bitter rivals is often positive and not heard about.  

Mostly though, sports create bonds that last a lifetime and bring us closer to those we love.  Some won't understand.  But many of us do. Our relationships don't have to be limited to sports, but they can be enhanced.  

I have countless fond memories with my mom and dad, brother and sister related to sports. It could be going to games, playing in games or front yard pick up games.

This is all well and good to show the importance of sports, but where does it fall in my/our priorities and is that ok?

Is this judgement objective or based in our personal preferences?

Where I may appreciate the warm, heartfelt, Field of Dreams type moment playing catch with my father, brother or kids, someone else may get nothing from it.

Does this mean there is no value in it?  Does this mean the person not finding value in a game of catch is missing out on something they should appreciate?

There answer is the same for both in my opinion.

No.

I think we find ourselves coming back the same place we usually find ourselves when asking whether some behavior, action, belief, practice and so on have gone too far.  "There is little wrong with (fill in the blank) in itself, but in moderation."

It feels like the sports industry has grown out of control.  We pay top dollar for tickets and watch television stations that have sponsors that make these owners billionaires and players millionaires several times over.

Meanwhile schools are failing before our very eyes and people want to reform them by any method other than spending money on them.  Infrastructure is falling apart all around us. There are homeless and jobless, gangs ruling city neighborhoods, addicts in need of assistance and a flourishing drug trade.

We could go on.

Why are sports burning a hole in our pocket while these other problems are not? Isn't this a bad sign for our future?

Shouldn't police officers, firefighters and teachers, social workers and mental health workers more deserving of the money and resources?  I am not saying this because I am a teacher, but asking as an honest question.

How can I justify in my head, my daily obsession with sports and allowing it to dominate such a large part of my life with so much around, my career in particular, needing my attention?

Cities or countries spend billions of dollars loosely to build infrastructure and stadiums to host Olympic games or the World Cup and then leave these buildings vacant.  How wasteful is that?

All because of our love for sports.

This is really depressing.  Which only fuels my drive to drown myself in NBA free agency and meaningless games and trophies and rings and bullet points for my next debate on why my team is better than yours.  At least I know losing those debates mean nothing.