She’s running through this dense field of overgrown dandelion and buttercup flowers, yellowed beneath the glistening of the sun, and dirt patches.
She’s smiling, broadly. Her feet quickly moving in frantic fashion, and arms waving. “Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”
The field that she was running in is not a particularly interesting field. But, she doesn’t seem to care.
Joy. In her squeals, her fast steps, I see joy personified and begin to reflect on that kind of feeling in my own life. I begin thinking about how before children, joy seemed so hard to come by. At best, back then, I thought I had moments of fleeting happiness, moments that would come and go and leave me wondering whether happiness as a state of being could ever really exist.
But with children, I’ve found joy. My daughters have taught me to be joyful, to celebrate and marvel in the small things, and to see the world again with eyes of wonder.
In that moment, in the field, my daughter is overjoyed with that moment and so am I. I look at the green of trees and how the wind makes the leaves sway so gently. I hear my breath. I feel my breath. I feel the sunshine tickling the back of my neck. And feel the beginning of a smile beginning to creep across my face. Joy.
She wasn’t thinking about the next moment or the moment past, but that beautiful moment of dirt, green grass, and running.And I was right there with her.
Have your children taught you anything about joy? How do you remember to stay present and enjoy the small things?