Not That I Speak In Respect of Want

Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.     Philippians 4:11

Every now and then I end the day feeling content.  Truly content, not "I faked a smile for two dozen people so now it's stuck" content.  On those days I recall little things that made me chuckle, like men tripping over themselves to help me because my dress was a bit more figure hugging than usual.  In those evenings I look forward to the shows I have marked, like Da Vinci's Demons on Starz on a Friday night.  The thing that often baffles me is how such contentment is able to manifest itself at the hind end of a day fraught with grumbles and disgust.  How is it that, when despair is everted, it is peace that lines it?

I am quite a fan of French storytelling and its unique mixture of quirks, tragedy, comedy and twisted sexuality.  It is a mixture that will leave you all at once reeling with laughter and wondering what sort of creature you must be to identify with any part of it.  There is a common thread that runs through these stories, whether they be the odd characters played by Audrey Tautou or the tragedies written by Jean Racine.  In the midst of a tattered, twisted and tempestuous world, somewhere there is a flicker of contentment.  It may not be the contentment of a sane or moral man, but it is contentment nonetheless.  It may not be the all encompassing happiness of fairytales, but it is peaceful happiness.

I have many questions about contentment and peace.  I believe happiness is a wondrous, spectacular goal to aim for.  I do not believe it is easy to achieve or that everyone truly achieves it.  The "happiness" most humans search for is the bubbly version that princesses feel when kissed by the most epic philanderer ever to be revered, Prince Charming.  At some point in our youth, we hear from a masked source that the possibility exists for permanence of this happiness.  For a moment one may be happy.  For a day one may be happy.  If one is lucky, there may be an extended period of happiness.  If there is a way to be truly happy for all time, I believe it requires a heavy dose of denial and "laa laa la laa laa I'm not listening".  Overflowing happiness is sweet, I am sure, but it must be fragile.  Can you imagine the sorrow and brokenness that must ensue if such a fountain were ever to run dry?

Contentment and peace are different concepts.  They do allow for permanence because they do not require ignorance of tribulation.  The smile they conjure may be narrower and dimmer, but it is no less a smile.  Their similitude and entanglement allows them to be allies in a war for stability.  They are the building blocks of true happiness, and is the foundation not more critical than the facade? If the heavens, whether Valhalla or the Elysian Fields, are built on peace and contentment of one sort or another, is that not validation enough of their adequacy in the grand scheme of the soul's existence?

My hunt is not necessarily for turbulent happiness, but rather for laminar tranquility.  Like Amélie, I want to find an outlet that lets me overcome loneliness and the stagnation of this life while touching the lives of others.  It can be difficult to strike a balance between the side of me that wants to brighten people's lives and the side that sings "I'm staying away from people today" when I wake up in the morning.  In any case, for contentment to take root one must evaluate the state of life and accept it, also accepting the need for upheaval as a part of that process.  My upheaval has been slow, but the process has begun.

Honestly, the series could turn out to be rubbish, but they had me at "da Vinci"