Reflecting on a comment Pando made about having a good day, and I know that it is quite common for us to make a statement as to the quality of our day, so I felt like writing a post about embracing those good days. Sometimes, we can have a split day, good one half and rotten the other. At other times, the day might be checkered with periods of wellness and moments of misery. I had a gloriously good day yesterday, then sat on the bed to prepare to sleep at about ten o’clock and everything went bankrupt. I had a foul night full of anguish and disquiet. I have come to realise though, that our good days are worth sucking the marrow out of.
It doesn’t matter how you take your good days, whistle, sing, hum, dance, jig, clean, smile, laugh, crack a witticism or two, play a prank, or just bask. These are the precious days we know are not perennial by any means. These are the days our brains are weirdly in sync, and the outside world of problems can wait while we enjoy the nectar of neuroplasticity. We know it isn’t going to last, we know all too well that at some point we’ll be feeling sorry for ourselves. When times are rough, it is pleasant and comforting to remember back, whether it be an hour or a week ago, to those good moments when everything felt just dandy.
When I am in pain and disquiet, I keep my spirits up as best I can, so that I am not robbed of my sense of self, but when I’m feeling good, I am happy to be the town clown. In one year, I have 365 lifespans each year, that means that from when I wake up to when I fall asleep, I’m enmeshed in wrangling a whole profusion of symptoms and feelings that can range from the slightly odd to the downright apprehensive. That’s why those little gems of congeniality are worth having a gold dance to when they are unearthed.
Once upon a time, I could have fun at the drop of a hat, but I didn’t. Now, I don’t have that choice, I have to grasp it when it comes and squeeze as much fun out of it as possible.
, but that completely throws off my alliteration, I suppose “eau de vie of neuroplasticity” sounds alright. I guess then, take nectar in the true sense of its Greek meaning, that the gods were seen as being capable of benevolence and callousness, and that ambrosia was neither good nor bad, it was just the elixir of life.