Cultivating Contentment
Happiness and joy are fleeting and cannot be controlled. In fact, pursuing happiness actually takes me further from it. But contentment – contentment – is cultivated.
Contentment does not mean everything has gone my way or that it is “done and dusted,” as the Europeans say. The long to-do list, the deep tiredness behind your eyes, the concern about your child, or the big looming life decision all remain. But your higher self, your meta self, can see and occupy a space of perfection for a moment, a sentence, a life slice, or a day.
Contentment at work is moving through the day at a good clip, comfortable but swift, toward a purpose and without rush or uncomfortable pressure. It’s closing the laptop at a logical stopping point and one that feels gratifying, knowing the work was meaningful, done well, and that more good work remains for tomorrow. The productivity, while not effortless, does not steal or take, but inspires goodwill towards myself. In those days where I reach a state of flow, I work for five straight hours, barely recognizing that I’m hungry because the process gratifies and gives life. The work is still there. The deadline remains. I may make mistakes. Life around doesn’t stop and wait for me. But I notice the contentment of the day while I'm in it.
Contentment in parenting is noticing how I wanted to rush them along, but I caught myself in the moment, seeing the importance and victory of being patient and silent while I waited. It’s seeing them choose, taste and reject a processed cupcake because they’ve tasted the good cupcakes that I make at home. It’s their inadvertent memorization of “my message” –you are creative, you are kind, you are brave, and you are important, and I love you– that I say to them every day before leaving them at school and every night before they sleep.
In marriage, it’s the Netflix together after a long day, the whisper of love in the dark before sleep, and the unprompted encouragement before rushing out the door. It’s the moment of relief I feel when I realize I forgot to state what I needed directly but he knew and anticipated meeting my need anyway. It's the knowing what is needed and just doing it, even if the other doesn't notice. It’s the mentality of “we’re on the same side” and it’s the problem that’s on the other.
In solitude, it is peaceful lighting, a slow mind, and realizing I hadn’t lost my sense of wonder and curiosity. It’s turning off the radio in the midst of rush hour traffic so that I can look through the rear-view mirror at the most giant orange pink sun descending. A good whiff of a new book, stationery, or scotch tape is all that might be needed. The feeling of a good pen. The thought that makes me pause because of its clarity and truth.
The mindset of noticing and appreciating is all that is needed for cultivating contentment.
