Nurture Joy

The other day I was talking with a friend about how to balance taking care of others versus taking care of ourselves. She had been taught to deny her own needs so that she could do more for others. 

Scripture tells us to “love thy neighbor as thyself.” Because we drag bags of guilt around behind us, often for no good reason, we tend to focus on the neighbor part of this, feeling that we already focus too much on our own lives, and we should be more aware of the struggles of our neighbors and do more to help them. Yet there is a difference between doing things and nurturing, both for them and for ourselves. 

 

I’m reminded of the wells that irrigate the farms of the Great Central Valley in California that grow much of our fruits and vegetables. In recent years, because of droughts, the farms have drawn so much water out of the aquifer that the aquifer hasn’t had time to refill its reservoir. Even with drilling deeper and deeper for water, the farmers are having to either ration how much they grow or close up shop. This is what happens to us when we draw too much out of our reserves to help others. Eventually we run out of water and collapse.

 

You’ve heard about self-improvement retreats, exercises, and mantras, and most of us can stand to improve our health and flexibility and increase our energy. We can learn how to work through traumas that hold us back from living freely and with less stress. We can become more aware of our thoughts and feelings. Doing these things are helpful and good, but if we’re doing them to become perfect, we’re never going to arrive. There will always be something about us that we can improve. To be perfect isn’t really our goal, anyway. 

 

What we want is to feel good each day, and fulfilled, challenged, successful, and loved. We want to grow in wisdom, faith, and compassion, and be part of a community that takes care of each other. We want to feel connected to the flow of life. We do this by finding what nurtures us, and this is often something simple. Maybe a short walk in nature each morning to center us when we delight in the antics of the squirrels. Perhaps having a no-fat, low-foam macchiato makes all the difference. Maybe praying in an empty chapel reminds us of our priorities and calms the frantic rush we feel. 

 

Imagine that we are living alone and seldom leave the house, for whatever reason. Let’s say that one person visits us every couple of days, sits with us to share a cup of coffee. Imagine that this person shows up on our doorstep each time with a big smile on their face and full of joy. No matter what we end up talking about over coffee, no matter what chores they might help us with, what we remember is their smile and the warmth of their joy, and we look forward to their next visit.

 

Recently I had surgery to replace my knee. As you might imagine, I was nervous because it’s major surgery and things can go sideways fast. Infections seem to be the main culprit, and I heard enough stories about this to be wary. But when I limped into the operating room, each nurse was smiling as they were introduced by their first name, and my anxiety ratcheted down from 7 to 1. Their smiles did as much as the surgery, and perhaps more, to help me recover because their smiles touched my spirit and motivated me to do my exercises every day.

 

The greatest gift we can give to others is joy, our exuberance at being alive. Do what you need to do to nurture your smile, then head out and radiate others with joy.

 

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SIDE NOTE.  If we are grieving, sometimes we are so depressed that we don’t want to do what would make us feel better. Then it’s helpful to do something for others. Seeing them smile and hearing their gratitude reminds us that we are still needed.