Tag Archives: joy
Inseparable Partners: Joy and Gratitude
We’ve heard it a million times: “Count your blessings.” Sometimes it’s said with a wry smile – “Count your blessings – things could be worse!” Sometimes it’s given as advice, as if being grateful for what we have will magically take away all our worries. Sometimes we roll our eyes and try not to hit the person who said it just carry on. But sometimes we take it into our hearts and are truly thankful for what we’ve been given. And with that gratitude comes joy. If someone feels joy without being grateful, isn’t that really just a moment of pleasure? Climbing a mountain on a sunny day, or feeling the wind rush as you ski down a smooth, snowy slope, or warming yourself by a blazing fire – those are very pleasurable sensations, but without gratitude for the sunshine or your body’s physical ability, it isn’t true joy . … Continue reading
My New Year’s Word is …
I’ve already regaled you with why I don’t do New Year’s Resolutions anymore – are you ready for why I didn’t pick “balance” as my word for 2015? Reason #1: I’m too serious. Seriously! Reason #2: I spend too much time thinking. I’m always thinking of what’s coming up: What I’m cooking for dinner, what errands I need to run, what chores are waiting, what I’m going to blog about or what’s the next scene I’m writing in Shimmer 2. I think of how my children are doing (being a parent to adults is a whole nuther ballgame) and wonder what I can do to help. And wonder if I’m doing too much, poking my nose in where it doesn’t belong anymore. I study scriptures and try to figure out how to apply them in my life, which leads me to thinking about changes and sorting out what to do: … Continue reading
The Simple Pleasures in Life
I’m not going to talk about how often we overlook the small moments of wonder in our busy lives, or how to stop and see them more often – that’s for another post. I just want to mention a few simple pleasures that, if I pause to remember them, bring their joy into my life again. *** The squish of sand between my toes. The surprise of spring grass in the late summer, after a drought. The softness of my one-month-old granddaughter’s hair. The cheerful sound of my daughter’s voice. Standing amongst my tomato plants, salt shaker in hand. Watching a hummingbird hover outside my window. Light at the flick of a switch. A thick, soft towel, warm from the dryer. The sound and feel of delightful words like sassafras and serendipitous. The crackle of a warm fire on a bitter cold day. The nicker of a horse, the … Continue reading