The Joy Factor

Joy is underrated. Or misunderstood. If you ask someone what gives them joy, often their eyes glaze over, they mumble or laugh self-consciously. “Joy?” they repeat and grimace as if you have spoken a foreign language. Hey, I haven’t asked you to jump off a cliff, I want to say. I’ve just asked what brings you joy. It’s almost as if the old Puritan Ethic kicks in. You know, that one that says we shouldn’t enjoy ourselves too much, attach ourselves too much to earthly pleasures, etc. Is that it or is it that the concept sounds too New Age? (Let’s be honest, here, New Age is no longer new).

Joy is pretty powerful stuff. I mean the word itself is big. It’s right up there with ecstasy and bliss and adjectives like magnificent and amazing (both overused, by the way). It’s not in everyday usage. We have a hard time saying, for example, “You know what makes me happy?” And happy is definitely a couple of steps down descriptively from joy.

I recently asked my son what brings him joy. The reason I asked was that he was a very good-natured, quirky, funny and yes, joyful child. He didn’t answer right away. I asked because he is no longer a child. He is married with a serious job and many responsibilities. Sometimes the journey to adulthood can squash joy. Sometimes we forget to remember it. About two hours later he said, (and I paraphrase) “I thought about your question. I think what brings me joy is having goals. Striving.”

My list for joy is: Writing, Being Outside, Planting things, Trees, Time with my Children, Being in the moment with my Husband, Friends.

So Joy. So important. It makes the cells sing. It gives energy, purpose, life force. So recognize it. Find it and revel in it. Every single time you can. And don’t forget to remember it.

 

The Cord

Loss is a strange thing. For a period of time the world loses color. Voices blur. The heart beats in your chest . A hollow bell. It hurts. Pain from the inside. Everything else is numb. Vision is a black and white kaleidoscope. A gray scrim.

A friend of mine just lost her son in a senseless accident. She lost her husband to a debilitating illness less than a year ago. Both tragic, unseemly, untimely.

So. Is this just random? Just s--t happens? Is there a reason? A purpose? Now seems the time to ask these questions because thinking about them all the time is too difficult. At least for me. So. Is there a lesson? Is there meaning? If this is our earth-school, do we need to learn about loss to appreciate the now?

My brother lost his son a few years ago. His mother almost didn’t recover. How could she? It doesn’t bear thinking about. By extension I think of my own son. My daughter. How much I miss them. How as a mother your heart never quite stops aching when you are not with your children. I think it was my own mother who said it was as if there is an invisible cord attaching heart to heart. Does that cord ever break? I think not. Certainly not with separation. Not even with loss.

I know there is something more. That’s all I know. So I’m sending comfort. Hoping that’s possible at this time. Sending.