40 Days of Good Shit (a lenten discipline for cranky people)
An invitation to join me
Tricked
When I first got sober, my sponsor directed me to keep a gratitude list, which—given the state of my life at the time—felt ridiculous.
Like, sure: a few months into sobriety I didn’t have to visit the “free clinic” anymore, but all I could think about was how I still didn’t have a place to live. Yes, I no longer woke up in unfamiliar locations, but I didn’t bother being grateful for that because I still had a pile of unopened collection notices.
One day my sponsor caught on and, in what felt like an act of aggression against me, asked if maybe I was afraid to be happier.
Can you imagine?
Looking back, I think it’s more accurate to say I wasn’t afraid of being happier. I was afraid of saying I was happier. Because to say I was happier felt like an act of treason against the parts of my life that still very much sucked.
The trick this woman was clearly playing on me was this: in order to report something good to my sponsor each day, I was suddenly on the hook to notice the good.
Like when I had just the right amount of change in my pocket for a slice of pizza.
Or when the manager at the grocery store I worked at said “good job” before I clocked out.
Or how the tulips had just started peeking out of the spring dirt.
At some point it dawned on me that even though my life mostly still sucked, the kinds of things I was now forced to notice probably happened every day I wasn’t noticing them. And I had missed it all.
It comes more naturally now but reader, to this day I still have to MAKE myself notice. Which brings me to:
Lent
Over the years I’ve taken on, with varying success, different disciplines during Lent.
I gave up listening to my car stereo. I gave up chocolate. For a few years in a row I gave up buying any personal possessions and then gave one item away each day.
But this year, I’m just not feeling it.
This year I am not giving up small pleasures in hopes of re-orienting my heart to God. Plus, I could really use the chocolate right now.
This year I’m giving up on shit that is not helping me.
I’m going to give up thinking I am someone who could ever successfully give up sweets for Lent. That’s a good start.
Maybe I’ll give up some resentments I’ve been cherishing a bit too much and just gently let the story I tell myself about that person go.
Or I’ll give up on the idea that I can exercise my body back into a previous version of herself. That might be good.
At some point I should probably give up thinking that if we order Chinese take-out it will be good this time.
Perhaps more than anything, I should give up the failed notion that what I read and see on the internet is a complete and accurate depiction of the world—and instead actively look for how beautiful it can be.
So to that end—and because I need daily antidotes to the doom in our endlessly scrolling news feeds—anyone who wants to join me in a Lenten practice is invited to do so.
I’m Also Taking on Something that DOES Help Me: The “40 Days of Good Shit” Project.
Each day in Lent (which starts Wednesday, Feb 18th), I’ll either:
Take one photo of something beautiful I notice in my day—like how the light comes through our front room in the afternoon, or
Write one sentence about a warm interaction with a stranger—like the guy in the hospital elevator who asked which floor I was going to and pushed the button for me, or
Post something helpful someone said to me that day—like the six-word prayer my friend Jackie just shared: I can’t. You can. Please do.
Then I’ll post it on Substack Notes.
I don’t fancy myself some sort of inspiration to others, I’m just hoping this will MAKE me pay attention to the good knowing I’m on the hook to report back.
If you, like me, need some daily pressure to change the aperture of your gaze, you’re invited to join me.
In fact, I’d really love that!
Post wherever you like; Instagram stories, The Corners subscriber chat, a group text with friends. It doesn’t matter where. It just has to be something you actually experience firsthand, not something you read about online. I adore the monks who are walking for peace, but unless I see them in my neighborhood, I’m not posting about that.
To be clear: I’m not doing all this to ignore the world.
I’m doing it to pay attention to it - in real time and real life. Because the doom will be there, but so will the crocus and this is just not the year to miss the good shit.
If you’re a hashtag person, let’s use this one:
#40DaysofGoodShit (of all the pious Lent-oriented hashtags out there, I just sort of assumed that one isn’t being used)
Thirty two years ago, my husband died in Dec, my dear friend died in January, and my beloved boss died in February. I had a seven month old baby. Going to reconciliation/confession with Fr. Mario, he told me that, for the Lent we had just begun, since I had already given up so much, I was to do something kind FOR MYSELF every day, even if it was as simple as appreciating a cup of tea while my baby napped, or seeing the rainbows in the bubbles of her bath water.
After the year you’ve had, Nadia, I think Fr. Mario would say much the same thing to you. So much love…. ❤️
I'm getting my first colonoscopy on Ash Wednesday, so Good Shit seems especially hilarious and relevant 😂