I am particularly excited for the holidays this year. I think I have been since we flipped the calendar to All Saints’ Day.
I’m not quite certain if this is based on a gut feeling of hope, calm before the storm, or just plain old age.
Is it because everything in my life is as I desire it to be at this juncture? That’s a hard “no”.
Could it be that I’m thrilled there’s no “cancer-diagnosis coal” expected in this year’s stocking?
Seems fair; Santa left a double dose in 2023. Or maybe it’s just the anticipation of OD-ing on wall-to-wall football while transforming my place into the Nutcracker’s Land of Sweets come 12:01 Black Friday morning?
Whatever the mysterious reason, my inner monologue this Thanksgiving is more or less “Carpe diem, Sweet Cheeks; tomorrow’s not a given.”
Don’t panic. I’m not talking about a “damn the torpedoes” carpe diem that could head a girl into prodigal son territory.
I’m not advocating exonerating sins (of omission or commission) because “We only have today, people!!” I’m not being the fatalist who figures “What’s the use?”
I’m referring to living each day as if it’s my first, my last, my only.
Drop yourself into that parallel universe for just a moment. Would you worry? Would you sulk over last week’s transgression? Would you emotionally stomp your feet because life was unfair, or continually flog yourself over mistakes that are in the rear-view mirror?
Or would you turn away from the future, give up the hope of a better past, and soak up each one of those 86,400 seconds to its fullest?
Fathom the joy in that . . . in just being for one day.
Can’t imagine being able to do that? I hear you.
Those close to me are doubled over at the thought of these words even occupying space in my mind, let alone making their way to my fingertips, keyboard, and the page before your eyes.
I’ve forever been the ultimate planner . . . organizer . . . list-maker . . . perfectionist.
These are useful qualities, actually, but they can doom a girl to frustration in a very imperfect world.
Frustration, worry, and seeing the glass half-empty were my best events for a large portion of my life.
But I have learned that living in the moment has some major advantages.
For one thing, I spend a lot less time sweeping up the shards of my broken spirit.
My finish line for perfection in this is a long way off, but the trajectory is upward, and I’m convinced it’s the only way to navigate this side of the grass if you hope to find any inner peace or joy.
How I wish that mindset would have stayed with me from birth.
Unfortunately, it didn’t. Something changed in me around age 14, and my former self was more or less inexplicably vaporized.
In this 48-year struggle, I’ve tried everything there is to find that girl again, and am convinced that the physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual components of this enigma are all packed together in the perfect snowball.
One begets the other, and trying to figure out which flake was first will do its best to drive you to insanity or total defeat.
Moreover, the way it takes you down temporally makes it doubly hard to stay positive spiritually. It is truly diabolical.
But there is hope for a meltdown of this glacier. For me, it began with a sheer act of will.
In a dire moment, my cynicism at its usual level of strength, somehow I managed to get these words past my clenched teeth and quivering lips as the tears rolled down my face: “I will NOT doubt . . . God DOES care . . . I will NOT doubt.”
Exactly who was interceding for me at that moment, I don’t know, but I’m forever grateful.
Maybe it was all of the prayers I managed to still utter in spiritual dryness finally bearing fruit.
Someday I imagine it will be manifest to me.
My January Thaw began then and there.
To be clear, life did not suddenly become great. There was much more suffering in store, and I continued my search for answers via various fronts.
In those efforts, however, I found fewer dead ends and far more epiphanies.
With this mini foundation now laid, we will take a deep dive into each piece in the new year.
For now, take heart that my ability to understand His plan for me, accept it even when I don’t understand it, and truly believe in His love for me continues to grow — as does my capacity to live more of my life in the moment.
It can be just the same for you.
Here’s the best summation of carpe diem, to my mind; I never miss this “Prayer After Holy Communion,” and I invite you to try it:
Dear Lord, help me to remove from my mind every thought or opinion which You would not sanction, every feeling from my heart which You would not approve.
Grant that I may spend the hours of the day gladly working with You according to Your will.
Help me just for today and be with me in it. In the long hours of work, that I may not grow weary or slack in serving You.
In conversations, that they may not be to me occasions of uncharitableness.
In the day’s worries or disappointments, that I may be patient with myself and with those around me.
In moments of fatigue and illness, that I may be mindful of others rather than myself.
In temptations, that I may be generous and loyal, so that when the day is over I may lay it at Your feet, with its successes which are all Yours, and its failures which are all my own, and feel that life is real and peaceful, and blessed when spent with You as the Guest of my soul.
Amen.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Maria Burns is a lifelong Catholic and writer who lives in Madison.