Increasingly it seems that joy comes from celebrating the little things and gradually letting fears and worries go. Of course that isn't completely possible, but it is a good goal. I hope I remember it a year from now.
Today, these are the things that make me happy:
1. Stepping off a curb and not feeling a small jolt of pain. The ease of stepping down and walking on without pause, as if stepping off a curb was a normal part of life, which of course it is, was pure pleasure. Later, I intentinally stepped up over another curb, intentionally striding across a tree root, just to prove to myself that the world will soon enough be mine to amble across at will. It is the pure mundanity of it that thrills me.
2. This chocolate. It is really a little sweeter than I usually prefer, and it is not silky smooth,. The stone-ground grainyness of it is pleasing however, almost enhancing the intensity of the chocolate as it melts on the tongue. The texture brings a new dimension to the chocolate, a dimension I didn't realize I was missing.
3. My mousepad. A simple collage of photos of clothes gathered from the web a few years ago. It inspired me anew each and every day.
4. Driving over a speed bump, no matter how slowly, and not feeling that deadly settling thump of the rear tires coming down with the accompanying leaden jolt of my back against the seat. It is a pleasure not to dread the next speed bump.
5. The reproduction sun mirror in my entry hall. Massive and yet delicate, reflective and yet cloudy, it makes me smile every day and reminds me that promise and art are all a state of mind. I also just realized that I have no idea what is reflected in the mirror in the above photo. Somehow that makes me very happy.
6. The large painting in the entry hall, also seen in the above photo. I knew that painting would go on that wall the moment we agreed to buy the house. It is nothing fancy, a student painting, a painting George and I both saw lying on the floor waiting to be hung for a student exhibition at Vassar College, a painting we instantly knew we wanted in our living room. Now, surrounded by the sun mirror and a few smaller prints it is no longer lonely, my entry hall is no longer bare, and as my life is becomes full with the things that are important to me, these objects provide a background of comfort and familiarity and joy. Not really significant in and of themselves, they are artifacts of a life well lived, and yet open to all the life that is yet ahead.