This morning I heard a very lovely piece of writing on NPR. It came from Ross Gay, the author of a work called the Book of Delights. (You can read about the interview with him here, and be sure to click on the "tap tap" audio snippet in the link, which includes his wonderful reflection on the moment on a flight when an attendant passed a glass of water to him, with a gentle tap tap on the arm). You could summarize the radio interview, I suppose, as dangling before us the idea that we would be far better off sharing with others things that we love, rather than things that we hate and that drive us nuts.
Well yes. I've thought this since year two of my blogging project (year one was a blur of experimentation). Ross Gay claimed that writing daily about joy, happiness was hard work. (And mind you, finding joy, by his way of thinking about this, does not preclude facing sorrow.) I tend to agree, though I do think it becomes easier over time if you give yourself a steady diet of words that express your feelings of happiness when something crosses your path that deserves that label.
For me, oftentimes, that moment of contentment, gratitude, and yes, joy comes early in the day, when I do that walk to and from the shed.
I look around at what the farmette lands have to offer. Today's catch:
And I enter the farmhouse with thoughts about breakfast with a smile that is my response to the sweet elements of life, so readily within our reach. Eventually, of course, I sit down and canvas the internet for news and updates and then it becomes ever so hard to remember that picture from the morning walk. But time passes and others take its place. Like the moments over breakfast.
And, too, when cooking Sunday dinner for the young family. That happens later in the day of course.
Ed and I both drive over with the prepared foods. He wants to see the kids. I tell him he better have his running shoes on! Sparrow, who doesn't quite get social distancing, can really log in a good chase!
Playing ball: a naturally distanced game!
You could say that these are cherry picked moments from a day that is robust with all sorts of emotions. But here's the thing: once you identify that which for you is joyful, the aura does linger. Joy, like its opposites (sorrow, anger, despair), is not ephemeral. It gets under your skin and carries you for a while. Sometimes even a long while.
(Earlier, an afternoon walk in our farmette neighborhood...)
(A couple of years ago, there were cornfields here. Now -- a new development, with dozens of new homes. Perhaps the crane is looking for the cornfields that are lodged in her memories of how it once was...)
In more pragmatic news, Ed and I opened our absentee voting envelopes which arrived last week. Well now! His was missing the ballot. One more reason to do this stuff early. Plenty of time to fix mistakes and omissions!
Finally, I'll let you guess if we drove to Stoughton today.
I can explain! I got a call again and the homeowners swore they had her right there in their hosta plants. Hurry! -- they said. We hurried. She, if it was indeed THE cat, was gone.
(Back home again...)
(Where yes, you can still find delights...)
Well yes. I've thought this since year two of my blogging project (year one was a blur of experimentation). Ross Gay claimed that writing daily about joy, happiness was hard work. (And mind you, finding joy, by his way of thinking about this, does not preclude facing sorrow.) I tend to agree, though I do think it becomes easier over time if you give yourself a steady diet of words that express your feelings of happiness when something crosses your path that deserves that label.
For me, oftentimes, that moment of contentment, gratitude, and yes, joy comes early in the day, when I do that walk to and from the shed.
I look around at what the farmette lands have to offer. Today's catch:
And I enter the farmhouse with thoughts about breakfast with a smile that is my response to the sweet elements of life, so readily within our reach. Eventually, of course, I sit down and canvas the internet for news and updates and then it becomes ever so hard to remember that picture from the morning walk. But time passes and others take its place. Like the moments over breakfast.
And, too, when cooking Sunday dinner for the young family. That happens later in the day of course.
Ed and I both drive over with the prepared foods. He wants to see the kids. I tell him he better have his running shoes on! Sparrow, who doesn't quite get social distancing, can really log in a good chase!
Playing ball: a naturally distanced game!
You could say that these are cherry picked moments from a day that is robust with all sorts of emotions. But here's the thing: once you identify that which for you is joyful, the aura does linger. Joy, like its opposites (sorrow, anger, despair), is not ephemeral. It gets under your skin and carries you for a while. Sometimes even a long while.
(Earlier, an afternoon walk in our farmette neighborhood...)
(A couple of years ago, there were cornfields here. Now -- a new development, with dozens of new homes. Perhaps the crane is looking for the cornfields that are lodged in her memories of how it once was...)
In more pragmatic news, Ed and I opened our absentee voting envelopes which arrived last week. Well now! His was missing the ballot. One more reason to do this stuff early. Plenty of time to fix mistakes and omissions!
Finally, I'll let you guess if we drove to Stoughton today.
I can explain! I got a call again and the homeowners swore they had her right there in their hosta plants. Hurry! -- they said. We hurried. She, if it was indeed THE cat, was gone.
(Back home again...)
(Where yes, you can still find delights...)
