“Art isn’t about showing off, it’s about showing yourself. Show yourself; you’re beautiful.” – Glennon Doyle Melton
As I thumb-swipe through my pictures on my phone, brainstorming ideas for my Christmas card, I stop short at one-too-many-for-it-to-be-random pictures of colorful things. I love little arrays of color, and lately I’ve been giving myself permission to stop and take a picture when I notice one.
At a recent workshop I asked a woman at my table if I could snap a pic of her pens. She lit up like a firework, “Oh, I just love flair pens, don’t you.”
Yep. I do.
It’s a small thing, a simple joy. And the stopping doesn’t take much time, but every time I do, I get a shot of smiley energy, like an iPhone battery filled up from a five-second plug in. I’ve always liked colors, but before this year I didn’t often let myself take the pictures I saw. After all. . . that’s a waste of time and . . . haven’t you got more important things to do. . . and . . . harrumph, harrumph, grown-up harrumph.
I’ve wondered more lately if it’s the frivolous things, the tiny little joy spots in our days, that are actually the important stuff.
- To really look into my daughter’s eyes as we run around the kitchen table laughing and playing tickle-tag.
- To send a text to a mama friend who’s just back to work after maternity leave.
- To stop and notice how perfectly the curve of the handle of this one tea mug fits my hand.
What is joy about for you?
What if your little joys aren’t silly, but a way to be part of the living, creative force that’s ebbing in all of us and under all of this? I’d like to think so. And to that I say cheers, let’s get busy living and notice the joy that springs up.
“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.” – Elizabeth Kubler Ross