You know that old saying, “Misery loves company”? I discovered something this week: it’s true about thoughts, too. Miserable thoughts love the company of other miserable thoughts. I was watching TV the other night when I thought, I have a charley horse in my foot. And my thoughts were off and running in a whole chorus of misery:
Charley horse, huh? Well, I’m still sticking around from last week’s bronchitis. I’m a painful cough.
Painful cough?! That’s nothing. I’m bored and wondering if there’s any point to life. It seems depressing lately.
Oh, cry me a river. I’m a migraine and I haven’t had a day off since November.
Fine. I’ll see your migraine and your cough and raise you. I’ve decided I no longer possess the ability to put words together. I’m a failed writer.
And so on and so on, ad nauseam, ad infinitum. Misery loves company in my thoughts. And trying to stop those thoughts is like herding cats—an exercise in futility. (I would know; I’ve tried both of those things. Frequently.) So on this night, I decided to try something different to not only stop my miserable thoughts but change them. I got out one of my many notebooks, wrote “Happy Things” on the top of the page and started writing. When I got to the end of my list, I was smiling. I was happy. And I realized that I can train my brain to be happier; I don’t have to surrender and let it slide off in its descent into misery.
This is part of my list of things that made me happy, just in the last few days:
My job. Our family business is in the middle of the last push before Christmas, and every single one of us is working around the clock—not just our family but all of the people who work with us. It’s frantic; it’s stressful; it’s fun. Yesterday, my sister, who works for the business but lives a couple of hours away, sent me a text about the work we were doing. I responded with a song—Eminem’s “Til I Collapse,” knowing she could relate. She sent me the theme from Rocky. Then “Chariots of Fire.” I sent her one by “House of Pain.” It was an inspired and inspiring conversation.
Monty works the day shift for the business; I work the night shift. But in these last few weeks, our shifts have overlapped so that we’ve been doing most of our work together. For hours. If you’d been listening to us as we worked on any of those days, you would have heard comments like these:
“I don’t think I’ve blinked in two hours.”
“Could you stick a pretzel in my mouth? My hand is refusing to move.”
“I’m gonna have to wear an eye patch to church tomorrow. There’s something in my eye and I don’t have time to get it out.”
“Is tomorrow Sunday? Seriously? I would have bet my life that today was Thursday.”
And then there’s the Boss, my dad. He’s like Santa—he knows if we are sleeping. He knows if we’re awake. He knows if we’ve been doing our work so we do it, for goodness sake. He stopped by yesterday morning, saw our cat Mackin in my office chair and said, “I hope he doesn’t think he’s getting paid.”
Our small town at Christmas. Main Street is lit at night with snowflakes on every street light. There’s a lighted town Christmas tree with a nativity scene. And every year, my mom directs our community church choir of adults and children in two performances of a Christmas cantata. 
I love watching the community come together to make the cantata meaningful. There were people who painted the backdrop for the kids’ musical (a living room scene complete with antlers over the fireplace), printed programs, sang in the choir, read the narrations, kept the kids in order, and sang incredibly beautiful solos. After the performances, I spoke to a few people who were familiar to me but who I hadn’t actually met yet. Two of them asked me the small town question I’m now used to—“Who do you belong to?” That question used to confuse me; now I know what it means: what family do I belong to? Many of the people in our town have lived here for generations; their last names are the ones you read in the paper again and again. My parents are relative newcomers, having moved here in the sixties, but people know who they are when I say my parents are the Omans. And then I get to find out who the person I’m talking to belongs to. It’s an ongoing game of six degrees of separation. And if you’re someone like me, who’s intensely curious about people, it’s one fun game.
Christmas cards and letters. Every Christmas card I get is its own present. I save them until I have time to sit down and truly savor them. I especially love Christmas letters, where family and friends update you on what’s going on in their lives. My mom knows I love them, so she saves the ones she gets; when I go to her house, I sit down with her cards and letters and savor them, too. There are less and less every year; I will be very sad when I can no longer have a virtual visit with a friend or family member through their Christmas letters.
The “I Love Lucy” Christmas special. Every year, CBS airs two colorized episodes of “I Love Lucy.” Monty and I turn off all the lights except our Christmas ones, curl up on the couch with sparkling cider and our boys, and watch it together. It’s an hour of laughter and love and tradition—and it happens to be one of my happiest hours of the Christmas season.
Writing this blog. There are always days when I think I have nothing to write about and no one who will care to read it even if I did. But once I sit down and put my fingers on my keyboard, the words come. Those words would stay here, unread and unnoticed, if not for you, my kind readers. I never take it for granted that you take the time to read my words—your comments and support surprise, entertain, and move me. And always make me happy. I suppose, in a way, this is my Christmas letter to you—so thank you for coming with me on the journey that has been 2018. I hope each and every one of you has a blessed and happy Christmas season.
“God bless us, everyone.”Tiny Tim, “The Christmas Carol,” by Charles Dickens
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Comments 10
What makes me happy, the most is being home with my loved ones just as simple as that and that includes my pets. Doesn’t take much to make this old guy happy!
I see you are working half days (12 on 12 off = half a day ) I understand did it for years, Going home at the end of a shift, I would meet myself coming down the driveway going to the next shift😀 only a person that works 12 on 12 off would understand. You and Monty are fortunate at least you see each other at work, for twenty five years I worked nights and Jean and I would wave at each other as we crossed paths on the freeway, then when I got home she was a sleep, dare to wake her up, no way I wouldn’t go there, are kidding me, thank God for the weekend 😊
Chariots of Fire wow that’s what it felt like going to work, I can’t think of good song for leaving work maybe I Survived might work😝.
Hope you and all your family have a wonderful Christmas.
Renee I want to thank for writing these post, I really look forward to the next one. Your posts have gotten me through some real down times and I always appreciate your example how one can fix yourself, get on the right mental track again!
Have a wounderful Christmas!
Love, Grover
Grover–your first sentence captures what makes me the happiest, too–being at home with loved ones and my boys. This shift work isn’t for the weak! It’s hard but as you said, working with Monty makes it more fun. I had no idea you’d worked the night shift for 25 years! Wow–what a grind day after day. I see why “I Survived” would be your “leaving work music.” 😊 Every single word of your last paragraph meant the world to me–that’s my goal in doing this. I will treasure your words and remember them when I need to be reminded of my purpose. Thank you so very much for that. All my love to you and Jean and may you have the merriest of Christmases.
God knows our hearts and minds so well, doesn’t He. As a good Father, He tells us over and over again to give Him thanks in everything. I’m still learning this, working on it every day, and every time I practice this, the complaining goes, and the contentment and trust grow. Praise God that you took the time to write in your notebook, to head off those “poor me” things that were going on in your head!
Things which make me happy: Connecting with others who love the Lord; spending time with those who are seeking answers to their questions and dilemmas. Books — many kinds. Music — many kinds here too. Clean counters and floors. A good meal with family members. Quiet evenings with a movie and some quiet work. Being surprised at what God says at a certain place in His Word, even though I’ve read the passage many times.
Heather–oh, yes, He does know my mind and heart. Gratitude is so important in warding off those miserable thoughts! I think every item on your list is something that makes me happy, too! Except maybe clean counters and floors–it’s been a while since I had those. 😊 I especially like the last one on your list–God surprises me so often with new meanings to words I’ve read again and again. Thank you, Heather, for reading my words and adding yours to mine. Merry Christmas to you and Barry and your family.
Renee, I don’t post replies often to your blog but I enjoy them all. You have special gift and by sharing you are our special Christmas Angel. Thank you for sharing.
Cheri–thank you so very much! I love sharing my words with anyone who will read them–it makes me very happy that you are one of those people. I have never been called an angel; that just brought me to tears–thank you, sweet friend. ❤
Love this! A couple things that make me happy:
1) You blog. I love getting to read it every week — whether it makes you think deeply or makes me laugh. It’s ALL good.
2) My Playstation. As a kid, I LOVED the arcade. Arcades today are nothing like back in the day, but my PLaystation still satisfies the gaming kid in me.
3) Mackin, Seamus, and Carrick. Yes, I am one of those annoying people who think OUR cats are clearly the best, brightest, most amazing cats ever.
Monty–how sweet is your list?! Thank you for putting my blog on there. If I could go back in time, I’d take you with me and we’d go to an arcade. I would spend my last quarter on you. You aren’t annoying–those three cats you mentioned are indeed the best, brightest, most amazing cats EVER.
Good morning Sparrow. First I will say, Merry Christmas to you, Monty, “your Boys”, Your Family. Yes, Misery always likes company, “woe, woe, pitiful me”, a great tune by Linda Rondstadt. But, dead serious when we “dwell” on our aches, pains, surroundings, ,etc. Thank God, for most of my life, I have not taken on the “Misery likes company”, mantra. Yes, once in awhile, a dark thought, a “why me”, but, again 8 will quote my Mom, “don’t dwell on the negatives”. That has definitely helped me get over the “self inflicted” “road bumps” I have gone through. I do know people who’s favorite s9mg should be, “Cry Me A River”, a cool Julie London song from the ‘50’s. Julie, great singer, ex-wife of Jac’ Webb(Sgt. Joe Friday, “Dragnet”l, “Hey Harold” you are going ‘off topic”, sorry for that Sparrow. Now, Happy Things, in my life, m6 Bride (Debbie). Our kids, grandkids, friends, relatives (for the most part). In my world today, volunteering(Church or at Sunrise), not to much t8me t9 worry. Oh , I do;”stress”, “Cable TV, “ my Astros if they go on an ‘extended los8ng streak”.,chang8ng nsurance carriers, to get better premium rate. But, not too much time for me to have “ self pity”. Small town Christmas, a great site, the Christmas Lights, The Nativity Scenes. Because, this is what Christma# is to me, the Birth of the Baby Jesus. He washed our sins away. I love your reference to Tin6 Tim, and the I Love Lucy special, both beautiful productions. So, Sparrow, sorry for my “wordy” reply. But again, Merry Christmas, Go$ Bless and keep you. TexGen
TexGen–I know that you aren’t the type to wallow in misery; Monty is the same way. Both of you are natural optimists. I have to work at it. But I’m improving! Thank you for the music trivia; your knowledge of music always amazes me. I love your list of things that make you happy. What I especially loved that you wrote is this: “not too much time for me to have self pity.” That just jumped off the page and right into my brain. Next time I feel those miserable thoughts coming on, I will get busy doing something else so I don’t even have time to think them! Thank you for that. I, too, love the Nativity scene in our town–THAT is Christmas, as you said. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my words and write such a thoughtful comment. Wishing you and your bride and that big family of yours a very merry Christmas.