Contentment in a Funk

I wrote up a piece called "A Funk Observed" in which I wrote out my thoughts and emotions while experiencing an intense funk. You know the kind where you find yourself staring at a ceiling fan, wondering what is the purpose of your life? I was trying to identify and better understand why these funks overcome me and why there does not seem a clear path to get out of it!

Reading over those observations, I have been trying to find a word that better articulates this funk. I found a word. Discontent.

"A restless desire of craving for something one does not have."

When I find myself in a funk, I often find myself restlessly desiring something other. But that other is something I usually cannot define. What I am realizing is that this discontent often is not targeted at something specific that I want, but do not have. Instead it is a general malaise with the things that I do have.

What is odd is that I tend to find myself in this funk when things are going well. This factor only added to the intensity of the funk. I think we often look for ways to escape our emotions by acting as though adding something more in our day or taking something out will erase those emotions. For example, we may tell stay-home mothers they need intellectual stimulation as a response to the humdrum of daily life. I do not think intellectual stimulation should be used as a relief from other aspects of life. A life of thinking and reasoning is a gift from God. It is integral to our being and character. Yes, if you find you are not being challenged or making space in your life to think on and chew on the deeper things, it may be time to clear out some of your schedule to do this. However, no matter how much time you fill with good books or conversation, the menial tasks of life will still be waiting for your attention.

The reality is that those menial tasks are just as much of our being as our more creative and intellectual side. One is not an antidote to the other. They are both necessary. Often, these funks are a result of my discontent that I cannot erase the seeming banalities of life. I then desperately attempt to medicate this reality with a good dose of intellectual stimulation. However, I am learning that wisdom and contentment does not increase with hours of study.

In reading the Bible, it warns on this very issue often.

"The words of the wise are like goads, and like nails firmly fixed are the collected sayings; they are given by one Shepherd. My son, beware of anything beyond these. Of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh." Ecclesiastes 12:11-12

So what does contentment look like during an intense funk? To help me better understand this, I dug a bit deeper into the etymology of the word content.

The Latin roots are related to the word "contain" which could strictly be defined as "to hold together." We are familiar with this phrase. It may be something we say when a person is overcome by anxiety with all the possible ways a situation could go wrong. It is an attempt to restore order or control. But I think it goes deeper than that. The other definition was "held or contained within limits." We as humans have limits. I think we often are discontent with those limits. Contentment looks like understanding those limits, accepting them, and even having fulfillment in them.

I am limited by my need for food. That need for food often requires chores such as shopping, meal planning, prepping, cooking, and cleaning. The mundane. I feel discontent when I feel constrained by my own limits.

I have found this exercise of writing out my feelings in a funk to be helpful, not because it gets me out of the funk, but it clarifies what is spurring these emotions (making sure it isn't something physical, spiritual, or an actual lack that I need to address). I believe identifying emotions is helpful, but venting them is not necessarily. In fact, I have found that venting feelings again and again can give them new life and power.

What I am learning to do when I have these funks is to pray. Again, not prayer as antidote to a feeling. "Say this prayer and your feelings will go away." Rather, clarity in my prayer, so I know what expectation I have. I could pray, "Lord, help me to never have to wash dishes again," or "Lord, help me to never waste time." But these are not realistic or clear. Instead, I am learning to pray:

"Lord, help me to grasp my limits with satisfaction for how you have made me. Replace my malaise with gratitude for promises that overflow. Do not let me get distracted by my unfounded expectations. Give me strength and discipline to move forward in my daily tasks, and to find contentment in them."