Sentimental Cynics

I had an interesting experience this past weekend, one that caught me unawares. I had gotten up early on Friday, and as I was reading a journal for school, Journal of Adolescent Literacy -- great reading, Nate appeared around the corner. After having his idea of playstation shot down, he conceded to lying on me for a little while. So, he snuggled up on my chest, we pulled a blanket over us, and he fell right to sleep. I could feel the glow of paternal instincts as I wrapped my arms around him and smiled. "If I died right now, I would have lived the perfect life," I thought to myself, enveloping my heart in the moment. Suddenly, a grating voice from the back of my head shouted, "No you wouldn't have, you moron! Of course you wouldn't be thrilled to be dead. The kid would be scared, and you would have died a young man. I'm not sure you've ever thought of anything more stupid!"

Hello, inner-cynic. Although I'm not much of a cynic, it soon dawned on me why so many cynical people are miserable. They refuse to allow themselves to believe in the moment, to get lost, to surrender. Sometimes, it is truly blissful to just lose yourself; to believe your own lies, as the cynics might say, and just fall for your own traps. What would it have hurt to just revel in the belief that at the exact moment that life was perfect? It WAS! How would I be harmed if I did believe that I was a happy, content man and that if my life ended, what an appropriate place to end? Because, believe me, that was how I felt. Maybe I was being disingenious with myself, but who cares!

I'm reminded of a poem by Hafiz called "Tripping Over Joy". Here the poet really captures the joy in surrendering to that which the cynic can not. Hafiz was talking religion, but the idea is the same.

What is the difference
Between your experience of Existence
And that of a saint?

The saint knows
That the spiritual path Is a sublime chess game with God
And that the Beloved Has just made such a Fantastic Move
That the saint is now continually Tripping over Joy
And bursting out in Laughter And saying, "I Surrender!"

Whereas, my dear,
I am afraid you still think
You have a thousand serious moves.