Just lately, I have found myself smiling at the washing on the line. Whilst doing the dishes. Seriously. My heart suddenly becomes so full of joy that I am smiling at the laundry.
Yesterday, as my son scooted along in front of me, and I pushed the baby in the pram, we made our way home from the corner store. Watching my little boy confidently navigate his scooter one handed, holding his icy pole in the other hand, I thought my heart might burst with the sheer delight of it.
What is this thing called joy? And where does it come from? If you've read this blog before you'll know this question is often with me.
At the moment, joy seems to happen to me in times of peace. But then you could just as well say, where does that peace come from?
For me, right now, peace comes to me from moving slowly. From stopping and staring in wonder every single time the baby smiles, taking an extra long time to hang out the washing just to be in the sunshine for as long as possible, from watching the dusk light illuminate the change table. Oh, and coffee. Definitely coffee.
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