I’ve been thinking about joy. Joy was the first Lucinda Williams song I ever heard. So raw. So powerful. I think joy may be one of those indescribables, something you can only recognize by feeling it and that you kind of forget about in between times.
I’m happy when Nate Silver’s forecast is favorable. I feel relief, but not joy. I’m happy when my apple crostata come out of the oven looking and smelling perfect. I feel pleasure, but that’s not joy either. Politics, volunteering: often satisfaction, but never joy.
I’m pretty sure that in fact the white tail deer have stolen part of my joy by limiting my gardening potential.
I won’t be seeing (and enjoying) my grand-daughter for a couple of weeks, but between now and them I’m going to pay attention. Or else I’m going to quiet my mind. Either way I’m going to be looking for joy.