The Way You Keep The World At Bay

Some days, it feels like the world is pressing in on every side, that it is all but impossible to see anything good in anything. It just feels like so much, too much, like it's better just to curl up in the darkest dark and not be.

I hate those days. I hate every last inch of them, and I spend so much of my life fighting against them, tooth and nail. The world needs more joy.

In my Ruhi 2 group this week, we were asked to rank things we liked according to how much joy they brought us. It was trying to make a point about how teaching the Baha'i Faith can bring us immeasurable joy, but I just ran face first into that question, and it was like my entire brain came to a screaming halt. How could I possibly *rank* joy? The joy of snuggling my cat and feeling his rumbliest whistle-y purrs when he is most content is COMPLETELY different than the joy of delving into a new romance novel by one of my favorite authors, and both of those are, again, COMPLETELY different than the joy of coming home and seeing my husband, still in my house. (I don't know if that will *ever* stop bringing me joy.)

I live my life by two things - starfishes and teaspoons. Starfishes remind me I can always make a difference, even if it is just a tiny one to one person, and teaspoons remind me of similar - emptying the ocean one teaspoon at a time will take a really long time, but it's very easy to hand people a spoon. Small things are my bread and butter. I love living by a paradigm that just seeks out small joy, because it means I get to experience joy more often.

A perfect example of small joy happened the other day - my husband and I were coming home from groceries after a long (but good) day - we'd done important government paperwork errands, we had gone to the splash pad with my sister, my nephew and my mom (chasing a toddler around the park is delightful and exhausting all at once), we had gotten my husband a new phone and set up banking for him here in Canada, and we'd gotten groceries and I was *tired*. I almost fell asleep on the bus home from Walmart, I was just *done*.

We get to our stop, and I manage to get the granny cart of groceries off the bus, and this little girl (less than ten for sure) comes rushing up to us, a fistful of daisies in her hand. I look over to her parent, who nods, and she brightly informs me one of these daisies is for me, and handed it over. It was *so* simple. A single tiny daisy, given freely and with much joy. I told her, emphatically, that she'd just made my day, and she beamed a bright happy smile at me before joining her parent on a nearby bench again.

It wasn't anything big or fancy, but it really did make my day - it was a reminder that even when I am tired, even when I think a good day couldn't get better (I mean there had already been toddler giggles and french fries and sliding down slides and the cool water of a wading pool against my toes, time spent with my family, reminders that my husband is really, really and truly, here to stay, all in just one day!), the world can still surprise me.

As Abdu'l-Baha reportedly said,  ""Joy is the best cure for your illness. Joy is better than a hundred thousand medicines for a sick person. If there is a sick person and one wishes to cure him, let one cause joy and happiness in his heart."(Attributed to ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, from the 1906 Pilgrim Notes of Ali Kuli Khan). So if joy is really all of these things, and can do these things, why wouldn't we want to experience it as often as possible?

When asked about what brings joy, we always seem to try to think of the most pure, the most holy, the most selfless giving acts humanity is able to do. Prayer, acts of sacrifice and service to those who have less or are in harder spots, acts of worship, all of those are things people will tell you bring them joy - as if we are afraid to say that a good cup of tea, or finishing a tricky puzzle, or finally making our grandma's gingerbread recipe turn out the way she did bring us joy, because that doesn't feel big enough. 

Here's my challenge, dear and beloved friends - take time to feel joy. Find it in the way you feel when your favourite treat is on sale at the grocery store, the way it feels when you get not-bills in your mailbox, the way it feels when a baby laughs or someone you loves smiles in that secret way that reminds you they think the world of you. Find it in a pair of clean socks fresh from the dryer, in a perfectly made bed with your favourite sheets, in having perfectly timed transit that gets you to where you need to be when you need it. 

Live, unafraid to seek the small joys with delight and abandon. It's not going to make every moment perfect, but you get little bits of happy for your soul more often, and I think that's it's own bit of magic.