Joy was a stranger to me for many years. So much so that I could not find it in myself to read about or celebrate with others in their joy. I am not talking of happiness or any pleasurable occasion. I speak of those very intimate moments when your soul sings upon grasping a sight or action that is out of our control. They are fleeting and a total surprise. And they sometimes go unnoticed.
My first recognizable surge of joy came one fall afternoon in small town Minnesota. I had recently moved from the big city of Rio to a rural town of under 300 residents. I was coming to terms with being a stay-at-home mom and experiencing the fall season for the first time. I would take my sons for a short walk to the post office, walking down the middle of a tree lined street and jumping into piles of leaves. It suddenly struck me.... how lucky I was to be able to enjoy that moment! Joy!
Some 20 years later I experienced that same feeling of good fortune, being especially selected to experience something good. I had taken off on a solitary walk through the woods of northern Minnesota to enjoy being in nature. A rustling in the undergrowth caught my attention just as a small fawn bounded onto the path just inches from where I stood. As I was still contemplating its beauty and grace, I heard signs of something else approaching the path through the dense foliage. I turned in time to come face to face with a large timber wolf. It took my breath away! Later, when I was describing this encounter with a stranger at the camp ground, she said, "Don't you feel like some higher power just gave you a gift?!" Joy!
I must point out that my joy is not gratitude or thankfulness. I never asked for, anticipated or worked towards these moments. They are unexpected gifts which trigger a joyous surprise.
I look back now on my life (yes, I am getting to that age), and see these moments of joy like shining lights through my memories: not being able to hold back the tears while my future husband sang to me on my wedding day; kissing my beautiful newborn son just minutes after he arrived; finding my 3 year old who had been lost in a crowd on a dark winter's night; receiving a handwritten love poem from another son; walking through my garden to find a sprout I had not planted; floating above a full size manta ray just off a coral reef; hearing music created by my sons; sitting down to a English pub lunch with family; night swimming and sailing in phosphorescent water; dolphins; spring in London's Kew Gardens; watching red and green macaws fly past the car window in traffic; harvesting wild grape for jam; wandering the streets of a European old town and discovering a cathedral choir singing.
Have I used up my allotment of moments of joy? Can I expect more to come my way? Who knows when some good fortune will come my way again? Should I be content with my life so far? I've had a good life... is it greedy to want more joy?
It is best not to dwell on it, best not to let anticipation dampen enthusiasm with disappointment. But I will let joy surprise me, and I will not let it go unnoticed.
