Finding Joy

It’s been a while since I’ve posted. Life has had me on one roller coaster after another this past year. Although nothing can compare to the tragedy I’ve been through, the storms of life have certainly thrown me off balance a time or two. Without a doubt, though, I know I can endure and overcome anything.

About a year ago, I realized I had quit living. I found myself in survival mode. I was here and going through the motions each day but I wasn’t experiencing any type of joy. How could I after losing my son and husband? But this wasn’t grief; it was just a pure lack of joy. I had lost myself in a relationship. I would lie in bed at night and wonder how in the world I ended up in this place, this situation in life. I had no one to blame but myself. I had allowed circumstances to spiral out of control and steal my joy. I even felt like I no longer deserved joy. I didn’t know how, but I knew I had to find it again. I wasn’t even sure I remembered what it felt like. However, I did know that true joy could not be found in others. In fact, it’s often other people who steal our joy.

So, I found myself alone. Being alone has a way of making you reflect on yourself, your needs, your flaws, and your dreams and then forces you to make some decisions. I was tired of being miserable. I made some decisions to follow some dreams and start living again, even if it meant I was living those dreams alone. I assure you I’m not excited about the alone part. I don’t like living alone, being alone, sleeping alone, watching tv alone, traveling alone or even eating alone. I just don’t like alone. There are a significant number of prayers each night asking God to please send a special someone and praying that alone is not my lot in life. I knew I’d spent significant time alone when I started carrying on full conversations with Boo dog. Anyways, I certainly HOPE God has someone out there who wants to spend the rest of their life chasing our dreams together. Although I still believe in fairy tales and happy endings, I also realize that a man is not my source of joy.

Where then does it come from? It’s complicated. Its a little cliche but true HOPE and joy come from God. When I say God I don’t mean the church, religion, or rituals; I mean a personal relationship. Most often, I find God in nature. God is someone who gets me, my grief, my lack of joy, my desires, my dreams, and all of my flaws. He has chosen me anyways. Joy also comes from within. It’s mine. I own it. I have to make a ongoing conscious effort to be mindful of joy and pursue it. I also have to make sure I don’t let others steal it. As survivors we often deny ourselves joy. I know I did.

I’ve found peace, solace, and joy in many places… the sunrise from my back porch, the sunset fom my fire pit, listening to the birds and frogs sing from the pool, relaxing with a glass of wine in the hot tub, laughing with a friend, spending time with family (especially grandbabies), helping someone in need, traveling to see God’s creation, star gazing on a dark night, the ebb and flow of the waves in the ocean, the feel of sand between my toes, the new challenge of scuba diving, the majestic rise of the mountain, the rolling river through a valley, the new fawn eating grass in the front yard each morning, the blooming plumeria flowers on the back porch, the dual colored crape myrtle that has bloomed at my last two houses, and in HOPE. The list goes on and on.

Where is your joy?

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