The joy of being
There are many moments I remember when the pure joy of being was all that seemed to exist.
Once, or more than once it was floating in a salty sea. The surface felt warm and silence filled my ears. Another time, it was photographing by the Atlantic while trying to not get wet from the waves. My friend was soaked with her Ugg boots and made me laugh with tears in my eyes. There have been multiple conversations that have reminded me that life is an adventure and you’ll never know what it has in store for you. A morning coffee outside while listening to my favourite birds that have returned after winter are some of the moments when everything just felt right.
Joy is easily forgotten in our fast-paced lives. Maybe because we think ’productivity’ - as we understand it - should come first. Or that the joyous thing should also be practical, bring income or it could only be experienced when surroundings are ideal. Having a drink on a sun bed with no responsibilities certainly doesn't hurt but it's not the key.
I think that when we’re connecting with nature, for example, we’re more likely to experience that uncomplicated, genuine joy but it can be experienced in all kinds of situations as it comes from within. Obviously I’m writing from a priviledged place - having a roof over my head and numerous other luxuries, like the possibility to explore this topic the way I do. However, one can ’have it all’ and still feel like there’s something missing. That something is buried deep but not missing.
What did you enjoy when you were a child? I loved to wander in my own thoughts, sing, draw and play endlessly. I don’t think it was the doing - I’m quite sure it was the presence and being myself. It hasn’t ended. I don’t need to be a child to feel the excitement about life. Sometimes I think it’s even easier now with all the tools I’ve discovered in me.
Feeling the childlike bliss is nourishment for the soul - a reset button that brings us back to who we are beneath the noise. Those are the settings I trust most. They are the compass I return to.
