Cultivating Contentment

As a youngster, I always had a really hard time not getting "content" and "contempt" mixed up. I mean, come on. Who decided that those two should sound so much alike and yet be nearly the complete opposite of each other?

Psssh. English. It has moods swings, I swear.

If you're a content person, you are happy in your current state and don't pine after anything else. Others are generally quite thrilled to be in your presence and they don't feel intimidated or infuriated by you {generally :D}. By being content, you help others to become {or remain} the same.

On the other hand, if you're a contemptible person, you're more than likely the kind of fellow that people wish would mistake a glue stick for chap stick. In my experience, nothing pleases a person who is prone to looking at their glass as half empty. . . every little thing is held in contempt. No matter what they have, they want something different or think something else would be far better.

. . .

As 2013 winds down, it's only natural to think about the things you want to change or improve in 2014. Personally, my list of resolutions for each new year could probably wrap around the block at least 1 and 1/2 times. "Change this; organize that; stop doing this; start doing that" and so on and so forth.

But for 2014, I'm going to try something different and whittle that long list of "do"s and "don't"s down to one little thing:

Be more content.

. . .

Why is it that I feel the need to nitpick every little thing about myself and my environment to the point of feeling compelled to "do something" about it? Why can't I consistently take the time to notice and appreciate all the good in my life, instead?

Take, for example, the nursery.

I've been trying to put together a nursery for Curtis the past few weeks and it has been really fun! However, "fun" and "stressful" are two horns on the same goat when it comes to decorating {for me, anyway}. I get on Pinterest and look up all those amazingly crafty ideas and pretty soon I have four thousand and eighty two things that I want to do. I stress out by telling myself, "You just have to do that! It would look so cute! Never mind the fact that it would cost X amount of money and you just spend Y amount of money on that thing over there. You just have to do it. Your kid will live in sadness and despair until he's at least 24 years old if you don't. You can use a coupon and make it all better."

Uh, yeah. There's something faulty with the wiring in my noggin. . . ;)

It's just that I get this picture in my head of how I'd like things to look {all over the house and yard, in fact} and I have the hardest time leaving it in peace. Simply put, I can't leave well enough alone.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not against improving oneself and one's environment, but it needs to be done in moderation and with consideration for individual circumstances. That's my problem. I see something or think of something and I want it done right that very second. I don't balance my desires with reality very well.

In short, I often find myself lost in the hustle and bustle of trying to impress and thereby misplace my ability to be content.

. . .

I remember a particular instance when I was much younger. My mom, older sister and I were at a massive craft show where there were various booths set up as far as the eye could see . There was one booth with a GIANT fluffy, fuzzy, warm blanket with Tigger on it. I was obsessed with him back in the dizzle and so I remarked to my mother that I wanted that blanket. Badly.

Unfortunately, like most things giant, fluffy, fuzzy, warm, and plastered with a famous icon, it cost much more than it was worth. She said no.

I reacted like any normal youngster and went about the rest of the afternoon as if my life was over. I didn't throw a tantrum or anything like that. I didn't even lay down in the middle of foot traffic and flail my appendages in complete despair. My preferred method of torture was to pout and offer healthy doses of {pathetic} crusty looks amid a stiff silence. There may or may not have even been a few crocodile tears shed and left on my cheeks to shimmer in the fading light. .  . I can't remember.

What I DO remember is that my mom, in her infinite love of me in my weirdness, ended up buying the overpriced blanket to make me happy.

And, oh man-- did it ever make me happy! . . . For a little while. Until, of course, it was replaced by yet another "I-must-have-this-or-my-life-is-over" object of no real and lasting value.

Why couldn't I have just been content with the other blankets at home? Weren't they giant, fluffy, fuzzy and warm enough? I could have just taped a picture of Tigger on one of those and been good to go. But noooo. I had yet to learn the art of being content.

Oh, heck. Who am I fooling? I'm STILL learning.

. . .

When did I decide it was okay to become distracted by what others have and I don't? When did it start to matter how I compared to them, anyway? I don't remember waking up one day and consciously thinking,"If I don't have the same things as So-and-So, I am not as worthwhile." or "If I could only have this, then I would be happy." I mean, really.

There's one thing I know for sure, and that is that I have been blessed beyond measure with many more things than I deserve. I have a complete and total stud for a husband, a beautiful and spunky daughter, an amazingly comfortable home, and a healthy baby cookin' up in my belly. I have supportive family and friends and a loving ward. Everything that matters, I have. So does it really matter that I have a trendy nursery or a perfectly organized pantry or that I find the cutest flowers to plant in my yard next spring? Why do I put so much emphasis on those things?!? Why, oh why?

I think Satan loves it when we pick at ourselves and belittle our best intentions because they don't measure up to someone else. He loves it when we smother our gratitude with contempt for what we don't yet have {or may never have}.

It's difficult for the seed of happiness to grow when it's overshadowed by the cloud of comparison.

{photo source}

So, yes, I have one resolution for 2014. It's not mighty and impressive. It's not going to make headlines or inspire millions. But if that little resolution reminds me to take a step back and contemplate everything that I have been given instead of constantly conniving to alter and improve, then I will have succeeded.

I'm gonna cultivate contentment even if it's hard. A seed doesn't grow into a sapling overnight, after all. It's going to take a surprisingly large amount of elbow grease and patience, but I believe the payoff will be well worth the effort.

Since my other, more typical resolutions will be stuffed into a duffle bag and locked away in 2014's trunk, I might gain weight and I'll probably never exercise. Odds are good that I won't get much organizing done and the house won't always be as clean as I'd like. But, by golly, I'll be plump, out of shape, disorganized, and covered in dust bunnies. . . but I'll be content about it. :)

Or at least I can hope.