Content

 

Recently I lived a morning in the library sipping an unexpectedly delicious smoothie brimming with a bounty of fruit, veggies, and seeds.  The room was a sacrosanct silent.  The white-light air offered a blessedly cool repose from the swelter of July outdoors.  I sat solo with my laptop surrounded by words wound in lines hunkered between hard covers standing as an attentive guard.  I was content.

At dictionary.com I find content can be
1.  an adjective meaning satisfied with what one is or has; not wanting more or anything else; mentally or emotionally satisfied with things as they are; willing to accept circumstances
2.  a noun meaning the state of feeling or being contented; satisfaction; peace of mind

I documented the moment in notes that sit on my desk today that indicate being so satisfied made me pause.  Granted, my library is magical.  It wins awards. It employs fairy godmothers of children’s literature that satisfy every topic wish.  It is a respite for writers seeking solitude like myself, city-dwelling homeless, and corporate board meeting planners alike.  We all appear to find peace of mind there, if our expressions are true.   But the library does not magically transport us away from our respective lives. 

I think I was surprised because nothing BIG was happening.  All was simple and everyday and wonderful and only planned to last an hour.  It is our natural state – peace of mind.  We arrive alive in it but then bury it in experiences.  Piling on of the past and furtive seeking of the future distract us from the one single present moment in which we can be content.  

Did I suggest our natural state is peace?  Yes.  Yes, I did. What about responsibilities and war and poverty and immorality and economic doom and deadlines and ethical governments and proper nutrition?  Is the idea of peace of mind, of being emotionally satisfied a ruse?  Right THIS moment I can only remember it as a feeling from that day because my monkey mind is swinging from thought tree to tree with this day’s duties plus the two interruptions per minute from life in my house!   

But I know moments of not wanting.  I can shut my eyes, look inward and appreciate on the inner level I have been there.  Being content is a practice, an intention, a habit. Being content does not distract from motivation or work or getting things done or improving one’s situation or allowing ourselves at times appropriate dissatisfaction.

I’ve struggled with giving myself permission to feel content. My mind wrestles with feeling that I do not deserve or am not good enough yet or that admitting contentment belittles life’s real difficulties.  Instead, we might all give ourselves consent to be content in little sacred moments that just may lead to longer ones.

When you are content to be simply yourself
and don’t compare or compete, everybody
will respect you. 
                                                - Lao Tzu 

Be content to seem what you really are. 
                                                - Marcus Aurelius