Staying Cheerful

My New Year's initiative began in good faith but collapsed about a third of the way through the calendar year's first Shabbat shacharit when, for failure to acquire a minyan, various fillers were imposed.  The rabbi being away, he gave the President a Dvar Torah from somebody else to read to us.  Probably a Never Event in its own right.  And one of dubious quality that got plenty of mental comments.  Then a rather academic drush from the Cantor to fill space.  From a chapter written by a friend.  Great source for a seminar in an aspect of prayer, wretched having it read to us for as long as it took.  I wanted to leave.  I did leave, to stroll to my car and get an update on my son who just tested positive for Covid with annoying but not life-threatening symptoms.  Then back for the rest.  Little banter.  Maybe Judaism is a series of time boxes that need to be filled, whether worthwhile or not.  

How I respond to something put my way remains my ultimate autonomy.  I could have remained cheerful as intended.  I didn't.  Sometimes you need to take broken things to the local landfill.  My shabbos morning experience has been broken.  Too big an impediment to my personal cheerful mission.