Living With Joy

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Living With Joy - book excerpt

Begin Where You Are

All of us have pain. We have all had our hearts broken. Though over the last year and more, we have faced challenges because of COVID-19, this new disease is not what has broken most of us. We were broken already.

Most of us have lost a loved one to death, lost a cherished lover to a breakup, gone through a divorce, or watched as a child we love hurt themselves, making terrible and painful choices. Long ago, some of us had our hearts broken by the loss of dreams, by the loss of our best selves—the selves we only managed to glimpse when we were very young.

I say that there is a way, in spite of our pain, our losses, and our broken hearts, to find our best selves again. To begin to build who we are now into who we want to be, one brick at a time. To move down the road to who we truly are, one step at a time.

One way to do this is to look for Joy.

What is Joy?

Joy is the thing many people search for, but few believe exists. And yet most of us have felt it, if only for a fleeting moment. The touch of a lover’s hand, the smile of our favorite child, the way the sunlight hits the ocean as we stand beside it. These are mere descriptions meant to bring into your mind a time when you might have felt that elusive and all-encompassing delight that Joy brings.

Joy is ephemeral. Joy cannot be defined or taught. Joy is something that each of us must seek for ourselves, if we choose.

Some would rather plumb the depths of the ocean for the lost continent of Atlantis than even ask the question, What brings me Joy? Understandably so, for a lost continent might bring wealth or riches or fame. Joy brings only itself.

So let’s try a thought experiment to see if you can remember what Joy felt like when you were a child. Imagine yourself in the safest place of your childhood. You are the only one who knows the answer to this, so take a moment to look inside your heart or your mind to find the right memory. Was your safe place in your bedroom, with a book, tucked under a warm cover? (That is still my safe place, even now.)