I am unwavering habit tracking and goal seeker, always aspiring to do/see/feel/experience more. That’s how I’m wired; I barely think about this side of me, I just live in it. But even though I’m constantly looking to learn more, I admit that I have it pretty good. (I wouldn’t say I have it all, I think it’s rude. This is also false.) I get to stay home with my kids and soak up every possible moment with them before they grow up and leave the metaphorical nest. I have a partner who works hard so I can stay at home. We’re all healthy and I’m using my brain in a way that stimulates me creatively, getting paid to do something I love. For someone who has known her calling since she was young, this is deeply satisfying.
All this is satisfying, all this brings me a lot moments of joy– and yet I want more. Financial freedom, travel, success: I want it all. Enter my cognitive dissonance. Why do I want more when I already have so much? Does this make me greedy and ungrateful?
And then there are those who have less, for whom joy is something they must actively seek, to perhaps, eventually, if they are lucky, attain. I feel bad, as if being so happy – happier than ever (except maybe that year I lived in Italy?) – was somehow not good. Can I celebrate this joy when so many in my orbit struggle to find it?
These questions come to mind as I begin to plan for my next year. They make me wonder if I can celebrate my happiness when I know so many others are continually battling theirs. I am aware that this is not my war to fight, and that being less happy will not give more happiness to others. Joy is not a pie; my room doesn’t get smaller when yours grows. On the contrary, I would say that it is the opposite; joy multiplies. It’s the antidote to the universal truth that hurts people.
Sometimes when I consider everything I have and then think about what else I want, I feel a sense of guilt, as if just wanting more makes me ungrateful for everything I have .
Even so, sometimes when I consider everything I have and then think about what else I want, I feel a sense of guilt, as if just wanting more makes me ungrateful for everything I have. I have.
None of that anymore! It’s not bad to be happy. I am no better or worse than anyone else because I have a life in which I experience genuine joy every day. Empathy is a true gift to this world, but as I grapple with these thoughts while considering my own happiness and the lack of happiness of others, I realize how quickly empathy can turn into martyrdom – and this benefits exactly none of us.
It’s also not bad to be ambitious and want to do more. I need to dispel this nebulous dissonance because I see now that if I don’t continue to work for more – if I stay stuck in the quagmire of complacency – then my joy will slowly be siphoned away.
Maybe this desire East my joy.
It is not a lack of gratitude, it is not a wish to do better; this motivation is simply what brings me joy. And that’s a wonderful accomplishment.
I’ve found a few mantras to help me navigate this cognitive dissonance, and I’m going to share them with you in case you need a refresher on the beautiful, transformative power of one of the simplest words in our language: And.
I can love my life And I want more.
I can find joy in my children And want to spend time away from them.
I can be fulfilled And aspire to greater professional satisfaction.
I can be happy And I want to create more.
I can love my people And want to be alone.
I can be a mother And I can be me.
Parents, creators, humans who exist today, we are pulled in many directions. We are mom and we are sisters, employees and students. I may still be learning this, but I think it’s normal to be satisfied, even happy, with one or all of our titles, and to always want more. And above all: there is nothing wrong with feeling joy in our work, our life, our relationships, when not everyone does. What is not acceptable is to dampen that joy because others do not feel theirs.
I can be happy And others may be sad.
And even though it’s a painful truth, it’s a truth nonetheless.
Kolina Cicero is in love with stories – reading them, writing them, getting lost in them. She also enjoys yoga, traveling, and cooking, Italian, and writing classes. His first children’s book, Rosie and the Hobby Farmwas published in July 2020.
