Cultivating Joy
In my previous post I spoke a bit of how I have been working to embrace Winter in all of its monotone glory. In fact, I have been working towards embracing all seasons, and at times, even life itself, in an attempt to find joy.
Joy, such a funny little word that I have truly struggled with for most of my days. From a young age, I have dealt with many dark times, times where I truly wondered if I would ever find joy or even just contentment in life. It always felt like something elusive. Just out of reach, I would lean, stretch, and reach towards it before it moved off again and I would be left wondering if it was something I would ever attain.
Like many things in life, joy is something I have had to actively work towards. It has meant being present. In slowing down and really using my senses to experience the world. And it takes practice. Each morning I sit with my journal and write down the three things I am grateful for and the three things I am excited about. This act forces me to pause, recognize, and appreciate. Sometimes those items and moments are small - a warm cup of tea, a cat sleeping my lap, completing a row of knitting, sleeping through the night, and sometimes they are larger - welcoming home a child who’s been away, spending time with friends, reaching a fitness goal. Each time I write something down I realize that joy comes from the things we observe not just those we experience.
This brings me back to Winter. Winter is a season where I typically sit in my lowest moods. As Fall rolls around I tend to feel a bit of impending doom towards the coming season. In past years I have resented the cold weather, the snow, the bleak canvas of a world without color. It has felt like an unraveling. Like a test of will I did not want to take part in. I truly resisted and in turn, struggled until the days lengthened and the snow waned. This year, for some reason I have yet to fully understand, I opened myself to it. I relented and accepted this time of year for what it is, a quieting, and I worked to be present and to find joy in all the small things - the vivid cardinal on a snowy branch, the enveloping heat of the wood stove, the squeak of snow on a bitterly cold morning. Rather then struggle against the current of Winter, I let go and floated on it’s icy current towards Spring. And that is what it has done, sometimes flowing gently other times with a few hard edges. But as I find the grasp of Winter starting to let go, I am find myself breathing less a sigh of relief at its passing and more a sigh of contentment at having experienced it.
I would love to hear how you are finding joy and if, like me, it takes a bit more work to find, welcome you to engage in the practice of taking a few moments each day to write down things you observe, sense, and feel.