Joy in the mess

Do you remember the tale of the banquet, when the guests are given spoons with handles much too long to get the food into their own mouths? I like this version, from the book by Rodaan Al Galidi and illustrated with delicious cut paper by Geertje Aalders. In Al Galidi’s telling, an initial party is held for “people who liked to talk about love… but didn’t carry love in their hearts.” They can’t figure out how to eat and so they go home hungry. The next night, a different set of guests are invited who “carry love not only on their lips but also inside their hearts.” We’re given the image of a harmonious love feast, with guests gently spooning food into the mouths of the people sitting across from them. 

Brené Brown says that we’re a nation hungry for joy because we’re starving from a lack of gratitude. Our hunger feels real, but like much of the scarcity we experience, it’s optional. The fable reminds us that reciprocity — an embodied dance of receiving care and sharing gratitude — can send us home satisfied. A contrarian listener might suggest that the banquet guests could simply hold their spoons closer to the eating end. But where’s the fun in that?

As much as I love the story, I take issue with the final image. No matter how much love you carry in your heart, it’s impossible to feed someone sitting opposite you without dripping soup on the tablecloth and smearing some on their nose. It may be delicious, but it is not going to be tidy. That’s where we find the fun and the joy. So as we move toward our Annual Meeting mid-month and continue to spring into response to the many national crises of this season, let’s allow for imperfection. Let’s find joy in the mess. Don’t just carry love inside your heart; let it explode into laughter at the absurdity of it all. There is time and space for tears and rage as well, but together we also take refuge in joy.