Crumbs Of Joy

"Always be on the look out for the presence of wonder." E.B. White

As a child, it was easy to find joy through play, imagination, and exploring the natural world. One could merely spin in a circle until one was so dizzy that one fell down. Or to run as fast as one could for no other reason or to dance for no reason other than one wanted to. To splash in puddles or catch lightning bugs or to see how long one could hold one’s breath underwater in a pool. Children often understand that joy is in the finding, the discovering, the playing, the imagining. Yet as we get older, I notice that a lot of adults’ joy has diminished in the daily duties, the every day worries and concerns, and responsibilities. Few adults just climb a tree to see if they can. Or jump to see how high they can jump.

Why, as adults, have we too often allowed our delights to diminish?

Often we believe that we have to be on some glorious vacation in some exotic local to rediscover our joy. Children don’t. I have watched kids find joy in blowing bubbles, in seeing a Green Anole scuttling along the wall of the school, of chasing each other, of squealing with absolute delight while playing with abandon.

During the hot heat of the Southern summer months, I have taken to walking early in the mornings. I walk through my neighborhood, not just for the exercise, but for the attentiveness to details. The bloom of a new flower in my neighbor’s garden, a small fairy house a neighbor’s child built and placed in the crook of an old oak tree, a stubborn flower that grew up through the crack in the sidewalk, the friendliness of the dog at the corner house. I always stop at the fence to pet Carmen, who is always delighted to see me again, her tail wagging with joy.

Awareness is an entranceway for me to find joy. To notice is to be present. Joy is often rooted in being present in the moment and not fixated on some future possibility, positive or negative. The author Henry Miller wrote, “The moment one gives close attention to anything, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.” Even a blade of grass becomes mysterious, awesome, and a world in itself. Do we give ourselves over to the joy of noticing something seemingly small and insignificant that it becomes so magnificent and magical?