A
friend of mine had an adult daughter, about 25, who had been
diagnosed with breast cancer.
And
that, after her diagnosis, was her life philosophy – “No
Bad Days”.
I’m
not the type to make proclamations or announcements like that.
But
I would probably be a better person if I did.
What
if we carried our life philosophy like a banner or visible statement
over and around each day of our lives?
Unlike
profound and pretentious theological or philosophical propositions,
these would be simple.
So
simple that a child could understand them.
Or
an adult could actually live up to them.
We
see something like those statements in gift shops.
Where
else would most of us find our belief systems?
You
know the signs and placards; “Live, love, laugh” or “Be
kind” or any of a hundred other benign reminders to not be a
jerk.
Apparently,
many of us need reminders like that.
Not
that we take those, or any messages like that to heart.
Is
anyone’s life transformed by any of those notices?
But
“No Bad Days” is different – especially when spoken
by a 25-year-old woman, beautiful and bright – and dying of
cancer.
Life
is too short for “bad days”.
But
is also too short for glib, inane statements that hang on the walls
of the wrong people.
With
all the “Be happy” signs around, how many of us are?
And
who among us saw that sign and found ourselves cheered up?
What
have we become when reminders to “Be happy” have become
just another commodified item on a shelf next to coffee mugs with
equally inert “motivational” statements?
The
word “woke” has aroused all kinds of emphasis and
critique lately.
It
had to happen.
The
whole idea of being “awake” or “alert” or
“observant” or, worst of all “caring” has
become the ultimate faux pas of our era.
Everything
about our era implies or demands numbness, inertia and, above all,
apathy.
Who
or what do we care about?
Who
or what do we take interest in?
Who
or what do we trust?
Cowardice,
corruption and contempt have become so common in our pubic spheres,
from politics to the market place that we have a term for it;
“normalization”.
Superficially,
everything seems to offend us.
But,
as the old saying goes, if everything is offensive, nothing is.
Everything
seems to offend us personally, but not enough to generate outrage. Or
action. Or even a response.
Look
at faces in public. Notice posture and pace.
Those
strangers walking by may not be having “bad days”, but
they are not having good ones either.
Most
people I see seem to be trudging through their day.
Their
work.
Their
lives.
No
synonym of “woke” is anywhere near virtually every person
I see.
Celebration,
appreciation, even anticipation or the thin smile of an inside joke
is rare to nonexistent.
But
I do see the occasional sneer or smirk.
And
when was the last time you heard someone freely and fully laugh?
I
hear coarse cackles and cynical guffaws, but true laughter that comes
from, and is indicative of, discovery, delight and shared, pure
discovery is not to be found.
The
term “brain rot” was considered the word of the year in
2024.
I
don’t know the word, but, as always, we will make it even
worse.
Maybe
“soul rot” or “moral and ethical decay” but
we need some kind of term for the near universal emptiness many of us
are living out.
Many
of us have even given up on surviving.
We
just linger.
But
what if we decided, just one or two of us, to go beyond “No bad
days”.
What
if we determined to have no mediocre days? No boring days. No bland
days just like the day before?
What
if we refused to have boring, predictable conversations?
What
if we made a point not only of “No bad days”, but a day,
now and then, where we wore completely out of character clothes. And
we, just for our own reasons, did all kinds of things we usually
don’t do. Or have never done before.
Where,
instead of our usual meals, ate something completely different for
each meal for a day. Or week. Or month.
What
if we walked through a neighborhood we’ve never walked through
before?
What
if we, instead of “No bad days”, had “No Same Days”
– where everything from breakfast to shoes was like no other
day?
We
could call these “Discovery days” where routine was
upended and we encountered events, rituals and people around us as if
for the first time.
The
premise of “No bad days”, at least as my friend’s
daughter lived it out, was not that every day was “good”
– which, given her diagnosis, was not possible, but that the
day was not allowed to be subsumed by grim self-pity, grief or a
sense of doom.
All
of us, after all, have an imminent potential expiration date.
None
of us can afford “bad days”.
Every
day, every conversation, and every encounter is an irreplaceable,
unrepeatable, immeasurable experience.
No
gift shop placard can take the place of a kind word from a stranger,
a glimmer of a sunset or even, for some, a whimsical gust of wind
blowing leaves across one’s next step.
Sometimes
when I am walking, I catch a vision of the absurdity, even vanity, of
what I am doing or something about my surroundings.
The
yapping of an insistent small dog, the mailman with his bag of mail,
going house to house, the sound of sirens or traffic in the distance;
it’s all very surreal when you think about it.
We
humans like to imagine that everything we do is so important –
and so permanent.
But
what will this decision, this argument, this action look like a week
from now?
A
month from now?
A
year from now?
I
don’t know if we can declare “No bad days”, but we
can make the decision to not let the “bad” prevail and
dominate.
Most
people I know have to “work” to make the good prevail,
but find that the “bad’ seems to have its own momentum –
as if “bad” were something like a default setting or
irresistible current.
“No
Bad Days”, after all does not mean “no disasters or
disappointments”, it just means that we won’t let them
win. Or define us.
And
that, I would suggest, is how we all should live.
