How to think about: joy

A short guide to noticing

Blink, and you’ll miss it.

On Sunday, joy snuck up on me. I was just brushing my teeth—wrapped in a fluffy, yellow towel—having just hopped out of the shower. The day was one of those good autumn days. Not the grey and mis kind. The crispy, crackly kind, where it might thunder and lightening later. The air was thick with potential, and not too wet. Joy snuck up on me. And, as I knew it would, faded gently away as the day got going, replaced by a whirl of busyness.

In pursuit of joy, I am trying to be more present. To snap out of reminiscence mode, planning mode, rumination mode, all the other modes I wander around in, most of the time. What if I could be really present, in this moment? What if I could pay attention to what’s directly in front of me more often, notice more, enjoy more. Could I experience more joy?

Being really present, in a moment, snaps us out of our own heads. It’s easier to do on a walk. ‘The demons hate fresh air’, after all (I forget who said it.) We can be more present on a walk because our body is moving, fresh air is hitting us in the face. The rest of the time, we fall back behind a sort of fourth wall of our own thoughts. Mentally, I spend 99% of the time glazed over. Physically present, mentally half a dozen other places. Observing myself doing whatever it is I am doing, whilst also doing it. Not dissociated, just sort of apart.

Joy is a bitter sweet emotion. Intense as it is fleeting, joy sneaks up on us, overwhelming us with contentment and the accompanying sadness that she will leave as quickly as she arrived.

We spend our lives chasing this transient feeling. Theme parks tell us they have joy for us, as do adverts for vodka, cars, phones, other people, all manner of things. Come, have some joy, they beckon. Ride a rollercoaster, drive a fast car, listen to this song, have sex! As we enjoy ourselves, we know that joy will be fleeting, as soon as it is over, we prepare to chase after it again.

The truth is, noticing joy, finding her in progressively smaller experiences, opens up feelings for free that we don’t need to chase so hard.

Donna Ashworth explains it better than I can:

Joy comes back

When you finally realise
that joy is less fireworks, more firefly
less orchestra, more birdsong
she will come back much more often

for joy will not fight with the fast pace of this life
she is not in the shiny or the new

she breathes in the basic, simmers in the simple
and dances in the daily to-and-fro

joy has been beckoning you
for many a year my friend
you were just too busy doing, to see

the very next time joy wraps her quiet warmth around you
as the garden embraces your weary body in its wildness

tip her a nod...she doesn't stay long
but if you are a gracious host
joy comes back

Donna Ashworth

Thank you Sam, for sharing this poem in animated form.

This GratiTuesday, dear friends, my radical prompt to you is to spend some time paying attention to what’s directly in front of you, noticing small things that bring you joy. The Walk the Pod Lunchtime Walk Club celebrate GratiTuesday every week, join us here.

Notice, and practice being a gracious host. Joy will return.