I’ve spent a couple of weeks thinking about the moments that have given me joy, and they are fairly diverse. Sometimes, I have felt joy in being so swept away by words and images on a page that I’ve forgotten where I was. Other times, I have reached the peak of a mountain, drenched in sweat and with muscles aching, and dissolved into the breathtaking view. Far too often for my husband’s liking, I’ve acted without much forethought to help an abandoned or injured animal, and I felt joy just because I did what I needed to do. More often, I’ve gotten lost in watching my three year old as he intently focuses to solve his puzzle on my living room floor. He has brought me joy in knowing that, although I helped to create him, he will somehow be greater than the sum of his father and me.
So, I think what brings me joy are the moments where I lose my sense of self in something greater than myself.