About Joy - a holiday series: Part 1, Joy defined

In late October, Jonathan and I spent four nights in Baxter State Park on the shores of Daicey Pond, fringed with bright red blueberry bushes, reflecting the imposing majesty of Mt. Katahdin on its mirrored surface. I took the video above while climbing up nearby Doubletop Mountain on a brisk, sun-flooded fall day. I was on my own at that point on the trail, surrounded by nature’s magnificence, feeling vigorous at the start of a promising ascent. The clip may not look like much, but it captured a moment of joy for me.

Joy can be elusive, or complicated, but it feels essential as breath when those moments strike. I got curious about joy, delved into research, and decided that this was more than a one-off blog topic. So…
 
…over the next six weeks, biweekly on Tuesdays, I’ll be posting blogs about joy. We’re winding down the year. Darkness is settling in. Today in central Maine we have 9 ½ hours of daylight, heading towards the winter solstice when we’ll have fewer than 9. Joy lightens us even in dark times. What better time than now to immerse in thoughts of joy?
 
Joy and happiness are not the same. What’s the difference? I particularly liked Brene Brown’s (researcher, author, speaker) explanation. She says,
 
“Joy is unexpected, short-lasting, and high intensity. It’s characterized by a connection with others, or with God, nature, or the universe. Joy expands our thinking and attention, and it fills us with a sense of abandon.”
 
Oh yes! That’s what I was feeling out there on the mountainside – connected, as one with my surroundings. I have felt it standing thigh-deep in the surf, ocean currents swirling around my legs, sand shifting under my feet. I’ve felt it under a starry sky, or on a mountaintop, or when the promise of spring caresses my face on a gentle March breeze. Nature is often the source of unexpected joy. My mom would have called it a sense of wonder.
 
Happiness, Brown suggests, is more fleeting, more situationally based, a response to circumstances. Winning the game makes you happy. Getting a tax refund makes you happy. Joy goes deep and includes some kind of connection outside of ourselves, a sense of meaning.
 
Joy can also come through food, music, a creative pursuit, or communion with loved ones. When I get lost in a writing project, I feel lifted free from myself. Good food, beautiful music, or a grandbaby sleeping against my chest can all infuse me with joy.

Thanksgiving is coming up, that celebrated and oft-dreaded gathering of families. Community, food, music, and creativity all come into play at Thanksgiving. They have the potential to provide moments of joy, but we must be open to them. If we look for joy and beauty in the face of contention, disappointment, frustration, even grief, we can lighten our load – and someone else’s. A smile is contagious. But it does demand attention and intention.
 
Take a breath. Be gentle with yourself. Pause. Go for a walk and look for that gelatinous shimmer on the surface of a pond that is almost frozen over with ice. Shuffle your feet though a yellow carpet of leaves. Enter a forest on a windy day and watch the last few leaves dance around you like fireflies. Turn on a symphony, or voices in harmony, or your favorite nostalgic tune. Listen to your family's laughter. Be transported by a single taste of that incredible recipe you just made. Smile. Spread the joy.