I’ve learned that holding tightly to one’s sense of wonder and joy is a form of resistance to the negative forces in the world, so I decided I would pay closer attention to the beauty and delight that surround me. I will stand up and fight back by finding ways to enjoy the ordinary pleasures and gifts that are worth fighting for and that give us the motivation to join the fray.
We need Joy as we need air. We need Love as we need water. We need each other as we need the earth we share.
Maya Angelou
I am not a plant person. I like plants, but let’s face it, I’m not that great at keeping them alive. I’ve admitted my inadequacy to myself, and I’ve told the leafy ones that share their lives with me that sometimes they are just going to have to fend for themselves. I know…tough love. At present, I have two Schefflera plants that my sister gave me from slips of plants that were given to our family after the death of each of our parents. Last summer, I set the two plants out on the deck so they could bask in the sunlight and enjoy the deliciously warm, rain. Near the end of the season, I brought them back inside, where they continued to create new leaves and stretch for the ceiling. A few weeks ago, much to my delight and surprise, I noticed another plant growing in one of the pots. It seems that while they were lodging beneath the planter boxes on the deck railing, a seed from one of the nasturtiums had fallen into the pot. After months of lying dormant, the wee seed had taken root and emerged into the light. I was overjoyed.
Montpelier, April 2025
Joy bursts in our lives when we go about doing the good at hand and not trying to manipulate things and times to achieve joy. C.S. Lewis
The unexpected discovery of this tiny new life bursting forth from a single seed determined to live even in the unfamiliar soil of a shared pot brought me great joy and was wonderfully life-affirming. Often, that is how joy manifests itself in the simple, the mundane, and the overlooked. If we allow it, the joy will come, and yet these moments of pure bliss are often fragile and ephemeral. Like a soap bubble whose iridescence disappears in the sun, joy cannot be bound or held forever. We must glory in its wonder while we can.
Not long after making the discovery of my tiny green friend, I awoke one morning to a painful discovery. During the night, Effie, my automatic vacuum cleaner, had gotten tangled in the tender stems, and only two small leaves were still hanging on. My joy had quickly turned to despair; a reminder that often that which brings us joy must be nurtured, protected, and encouraged whenever possible. The Psalmist tells us that ‘weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.’ Happiness and sorrow, as I have learned, are simply opposite sides of the same coin and often come hand in hand. Joy will come in the morning, but the night may return with pain and weeping.
Having spent most of my life in the company of children, I’ve been privileged on many occasions to witness the loss of a tooth. At first, the child worries the tooth with their tongue, playfully working at it as it loosens. Tiny fingers then begin to wiggle, wiggle, wiggle that tooth. Forget math and reading, at that moment, life is all about the loose tooth.
The most difficult and most painful part of this adventure comes next. The child, the waiting fairy, and the tooth itself all want the tooth out, but fear and the anticipated pain of removing it result in hesitation and require decisions. Should they use one of the various string-around-the-tooth methods or just reach up and yank that baby outta there? Regardless of the method decided upon for the extraction, the result is almost always the same. Fear and trepidation distort the child’s face, usually accompanied by a few tears. Pulling a tooth, especially the first few, isn’t easy. The child wants to do it, but doubts that they can until ultimately they do. Triumph! With the tooth out, the facial expression changes immediately into one of amazement and delight. The bloody tooth held tightly in tiny fingers is presented with more pride, satisfaction, and euphoria than a World Series trophy, a Super Bowl ring, or the Masters green jacket. It is pure, unadulterated joy.
Image: Pixabay AI
Joy may change its form, but it will return. Two days ago, I noticed a very tiny shoot with three infant leaves coming from what remained of the original plant. With determination and tenacity, it was holding on to life and sending out tiny, delicate green leaves. Joy! Joy! Joy! My heart with joy was ringing! Elation!
Montpelier, April 2025
“Joy does not simply happen to us. We have to choose joy and keep choosing it every day.”
— Henri J.M. Nouwen
I often ruminate on the idea of Joy. I know that it’s often unexpected and fragile, and I know that if I wait patiently I will find it again. I need to recognize it, nurture it, and appreciate it for what it is. Joy, like love, demands that we be open, vulnerable, and brave. Just like pulling that tooth…there may be moments of fear, apprehension, and unease before reaching the ultimate joy.
Even on the darkest days somewhere a candle flickers. Its dancing flame courageously fighting to hold on to the mystery of its burning. Recognizing joy and wonder, nurturing it in our memories, and holding it tightly in our hearts becomes the light we bring to the darkness giving us the courage to carry on.
One Wild and Precious Life 