Joy

I have been reading a book that I really like by Dr. Rachel Remen, a therapist who works with cancer patients. In Kitchen Table Wisdom: Stories That Heal, she talks about lessons she has learned from people with life-threatening illnesses. In one chapter she talks about the difference between happiness and joy--a distinction that I hadn't ever made. In her mind, happiness is vulnerable because it is temporary. Something could always come along to ruin the moment. Joy, on the other hand, is not the result of an experience but a way of approaching the world; Dr. Remen describes joy as the experience of jumping into the world with two feet, fully engaged and ready to participate, not holding back.

This is my Katie. She is full steam ahead these days, whether she feels good or not. She isn't simply bossy. She is really bossy. She doesn't giggle politely with one hand covering her mouth. She laughs, mouth wide open and eyes shining. She doesn't whisper. She shrieks. Forget manners and expectations. This is no shrinking violet. This is not a child who fears the spotlight. Katie will have your complete attention whether you want to give it to her or not. She is demanding and amazing all at once, charming and lively and voracious. She is on a tear.

All of this is simply to say that I am trying to learn a valuable lesson from my children. The dishes can wait. There are parades to attend. We had ice cream for lunch today. We spend a lot of time dancing. I will have time to worry another day. I need to leave room for joy, for celebration and for play.

For the record, Katie's health isn't perfect. But she doesn't care. She is too busy playing.