Dusty and Lefty, two fictional cowpokes on the NPR radio show A Prairie Home Companion, ended a recent sketch with these words: "If you can't enjoy misery, you've got no business being a cowboy."
Thursday, after a full day and long week, I went home to mow the lawn. The day was hot and sticky, and I grumped through most of the mowing. There was enjoyment to be had, but I missed it – blue sky, a bit of a breeze, flowers blooming, lush and varied shades of green all about, and even some exercise-induced endorphins as I urged the mower up and down our hilly yard.
I missed an opportunity for conscious choice on Thursday. For example, I could have acknowledged my discomfort and grumpy mood, stayed there as long as I wanted, and then looked around for what else was present, for something that might feed my spirit. I could have, and can, make room for both discomfort and enjoyment.
No doubt, you've heard the expression: "Any job worth doing is worth doing well." Right now, I'm more inclined to say: "Any job worth doing is worth doing with joy."