06 Jun On Joy, #1: We Know
Joy. We can’t define it, can’t describe it—not precisely. But our bodies know.
We know joy because we have shivered with it. Because we have felt it settle over us like a mist, a bit of heaven brought low. Joy is unpredictable.
We know joy because it has spilled from us. Because we have been surprised to find ourselves, even in times of grief or pain, suddenly full to the brim with a gladness we couldn’t see coming—suddenly laughing and crying and shouting and singing beyond the limits of what is considered appropriate or socially acceptable. Joy is overwhelming. Joy is not polite.
We know joy because we have watched our children spinning in the grass on summer evenings, dizzy, lit from within. We know it because, watching them, we have felt ourselves lighting up too, with the physical memory of our own happiness. Joy is contagious.
We know instinctively what joy is, although we lack the words for what it is exactly, because we have felt it. Because we continue to feel it the same way we always have, the same way our toddlers do—irrepressibly.
May this be a time of joy for us. May we, this month, express that joy every way we know how.