A few months ago someone told me I needed to open myself to experiencing joy.
At the time, feeling joyful was the last thing on my mind. All I could see were what appeared to be insurmountable problems and I operated on a plateau of fear. I either lived in the past or projected into the future, neither of which gave me much hope of ever feeling joyous again. It looked pretty dark even when I was in direct sunlight. I'd dug myself into a hole and I couldn't comprehend how I was going to navigate my way out.
Now I can finally see more clearly and indeed, there are moments of joy to be found everywhere you care to look. They don't have to be momentous; the best moments are often fleeting and, on the surface at least, insignificant in the grand scheme of things.
The smell of my baby's skin; the feel of the sun warm on my back as I sit on the beach looking out over the waves; an unexpected email from a much-loved friend; a beautiful smile from a stranger; my favorite song on the car stereo ('Jesus etc' by Wilco at the moment); dancing in the kitchen with my three girls; sudden laughter inspired by something ridiculous; the scent of roses and jasmine; a near-perfect tennis serve; a sweet long-distant and almost-forgotten memory; an incident of random kindness; the smell of warm bread in the bakery; the sound of excitement and laughter rising from the school AstroTurf; a sudden hug from my child; a falcon soaring in the sky.
And often, the simple feeling of being truly alive is enough to uplift the soul. That in itself really is a moment of pure, unadulterated joy.
At the time, feeling joyful was the last thing on my mind. All I could see were what appeared to be insurmountable problems and I operated on a plateau of fear. I either lived in the past or projected into the future, neither of which gave me much hope of ever feeling joyous again. It looked pretty dark even when I was in direct sunlight. I'd dug myself into a hole and I couldn't comprehend how I was going to navigate my way out.
Now I can finally see more clearly and indeed, there are moments of joy to be found everywhere you care to look. They don't have to be momentous; the best moments are often fleeting and, on the surface at least, insignificant in the grand scheme of things.
The smell of my baby's skin; the feel of the sun warm on my back as I sit on the beach looking out over the waves; an unexpected email from a much-loved friend; a beautiful smile from a stranger; my favorite song on the car stereo ('Jesus etc' by Wilco at the moment); dancing in the kitchen with my three girls; sudden laughter inspired by something ridiculous; the scent of roses and jasmine; a near-perfect tennis serve; a sweet long-distant and almost-forgotten memory; an incident of random kindness; the smell of warm bread in the bakery; the sound of excitement and laughter rising from the school AstroTurf; a sudden hug from my child; a falcon soaring in the sky.
And often, the simple feeling of being truly alive is enough to uplift the soul. That in itself really is a moment of pure, unadulterated joy.
Comments
Veena - true. Just got to keep your eyes open and then ensure you have the wit to spot the good things and the good moments. :-)