Joy & contentment

Sometimes I only need to let another voice speak, and there's nothing more to be said. So once again, I give you the words of Episcopal bishop and member of the Choctaw Nation Steven Charleston in his book Cloud Walking:

"Give me the simple joys and I will be content. The peaceful evenings with those I love, watching the sun slip away to its rest. The laughter around the table, when all our cares seem to have lost their way and failed to appear. The long talks with old friends who know what I am saying before I say it. The magic of children's play, delighting only in delight. The devotion passed between me and a beloved pet when we cross that line of difference, bonded for life. The quiet hour of prayer when I not only know God is listening, but sitting right beside me."

Ah, doesn't that just slow your heart rate and bring images that calm you? Joy and contentment are near at hand. We need not work so hard to find them.

'Practice contentment'

To practice contentment these days can feel like a real uphill battle. Marketers and advertisers urge us to want—and to buy—more and more and more. And does that really lead us to happiness? Of course not.

I like what the Dalai Lama says about this: "When you are discontent, you always want more, more, more. Your desire can never be satisfied. But when you practice contentment, you can say to yourself, 'Oh, yes—I already have everything that I really need.'"

What would it look like for you to "practice contentment"? How much is enough for you?

It's an individual choice. I don't get to tell you how much is enough. You don't get to tell me. But it's definitely worth asking ourselves those questions—and then making choices about how much is enough.