Becoming Cheerful

Elevating my mood has been a struggle of late.  I'm not impaired, or haven't noticed if I am.  I can sit in my green burlap swivel chair, derive comfort, and think in front of my screen.  I do the dishes each morning and have been faithful to advancing my treadmill performance in small increments.  My reading stays on or ahead of schedule.  No, I'm not disabled from not feeling cheerful.  It would likely be better if circumstances put me more in circulation with other people but Covid limitations have had their impact, including, I think, less infusion of cheer.  Maybe the deficit is not cheer but pleasure.  There are things I enjoy:  driving around the area, drinking coffee in the morning, I've now allotted myself a single serving of an alcohol containing liquid each evening.  Choosing, pouring and sipping it generates some pleasure, though not really cheer.  Checking a task as earned and completed has a very transient satisfaction.  Cheer needs to be more enduring.  If it can be worked on, I'll continue to work on it. 

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.