Joy

Joy exists before we register what we feel as joy.

The second we do, we’re out of it. It becomes memory, something we crave, something we chase, something we confuse for the pursuit of happiness.

So we try to recreate it, as if effort could bring it back.

But real joy is effortless.

It happens without us.

It happens when our conscious mind steps out of the way long enough for us to connect with what’s right in front of us.

We laugh. We love. We sit with someone’s presence without our own story distorting who they are or what’s happening.

For a moment, all the context falls away.

And without context, we’re free to experience reality as it is, not as we want it to be.

When we can remove ourselves, even a little, more of life fills with joy. More connection. More laughter. More love.

And writing this is kind of ironic, but I’ll take the bait.

Sometimes examining the architecture of these things makes it easier to let go of the parts of us that clog the system so it has space to bloom.

Bring these images to mind:

A stranger smiling. A child laughing. Someone talking to their pet with a funny voice.

Or hardcore dancing alone in their room.

The perfect sunset.

That’s the good stuff.

These tiny moments are soaked in joy. Authenticity. Maybe joy is just a word we use to describe the feeling of connection.

Unobstructed.

Connection to ourselves, to others, and to life.