In Search of Better Stories

Licking out the bowl on Joy

It’s only a couple of degrees above freezing, but the sun is shining. It cuts through the cold and warms not just my body but also my heart. It’s impossible not to be happy out here. I am also pleased because nothing much hurt on me on the ice last night for the first time this hockey season. Once again, this old body was flying out there. (I still can’t hit the broad side of a barn, but perhaps even this will be rectified)

I just witnessed a husband and wife with a couple of kids amble by my perch on the seawall bench. They are hiding a toy and having their two-year-old try to find it. The pure joy of adventure and discovery emanating from this little one has a contagious, life-giving quality that I can’t help but delight in.

Yesterday while out running an errand in Gastown, there was a good half dozen people who met me on the street with smiles and kind looks. I felt the beauty of human connection from strangers. The clerk at the store bent over backward to accommodate my needs. On Thursday, I took the day off to hang out with my eleven-year-old, Jemma. We had the un-hurried enjoyment of each other’s company, surrounded by the fascinating uniqueness of animal life at Maplewood Farm.

We had the impossible task of finding dragon wings just a couple of days before Halloween, but yet there they were, the last pair, half price. Today as I sit here and write, dog after dog comes to say, “Hello, you smell wonderful; I love you.” 

I am covered in fur and paw prints - the residue of love. I don't mind at all.

It is so good — essential even — to capture and savor all of these beautiful moments that come my way in life. Intentional reflections such as these help the fleeting joys of life linger with us a little bit longer. It’s the way we humans get to lick out the bowl on joy, just like my mom used to let me lick out the bowl of her brownie mix when I was a kid. The gift of unhurried reflection on life’s little joys is one that I wish to unwrap every single day.

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