Remembering to Notice Joy

Swirling around me lately is a litany of terrible news.

A coworker's father is in the hospital after what seemed like a stroke.

My dearest friend's father is suffering brain cancer and living in her family room.

Her other best friend just got diagnosed with lymphoma.

My sister's company is about to lay off 1,000 people.

A beloved Antarctican went missing in a Greenland storm for over 58 hours, was found, but it isn't known how many paws he will be able to keep.

My workplace has devolved into paranoia, micro managing and oppression.

Last night I met with my dearest friend and gave her a necklace made in Takaka by a delightful German. It is a joyous silver and glass person, swinging on the chain, kicking up his feet with abandon. It came with a little card welcoming the new owner to the "Happy People Club."

Today I realized something. For many, many months I have been forgetting to notice joy. I have been reminding myself only of the dower, depressing, struggle of everything. I have noticed only the massive tragedies and the frequency of everyone's bad news. I have turned my eyes down to respect everyone's hard time.

And I have completely forgotten to notice joy.

Joy is still happening. When allowed, joy will come right up to you.

Today I went to the garden shop and it was FILLED with plants and baskets and hoes and rakes and hoses. It smelled of wet dirt and flowers. I thought my heart was going to burst! I was so excited I started to hyperventilate and almost had to sit down on the wet cement floor.

You see . . . there is still joy and things to feel joyful about . . . even in the face of hard things.

I must remember the balance, and that it isn't disrespectful to those suffering to allow one's self a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.