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Posts Tagged ‘thoughts’

Rediscovering Joy in Everyday Life: A Personal Reflection

Posted in Joy, Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , on May 31, 2025| Leave a Comment »

I realized this morning that it has been almost two years since I actually posted a blog. Talk about writer’s block. It has been so hard to put pen to paper, or in this case, to open a blank page and start typing. With all the turmoil that has surrounded my life in the last several years, my imagination, my creativity, has been in hiding, in hibernation, unable to break free from the anguish that has been part of me since my family decided to turn on me over money. That block is gone, a weight lifted from my shoulders. There is sorrow for wasted time and wasted resources, but I have a new sense of freedom and a strong desire to get back to being me.

I titled this blog Joy, because that’s what I’m reaching for. More joy in my life. In the last month that word has been brought up several times to me. I’ve been asked what joy means to me. What brings me joy? Two days later, a friend asked me when was the last time I did something that brought me joy. And I couldn’t answer any of it. I couldn’t remember what joy was. I’ve been happy, amused, contented, satisfied, relieved, even delighted. But not joyful. Joy is a whole other type of feeling.

To be joyful, to feel joy, is a soaring feeling. It’s expansive, soul-filling, almost overwhelming. It comes from within, giving a sense of fulfillment and peace. It’s a satisfaction with the moment that transcends mere happiness. It’s a satisfaction with life that fills you with wonder and awe. Many associate it with a feeling of being “blessed”, but I think it’s more than that. Joy is an immense feeling, that fills you up and spills over. It’s not superficial. It can’t be forced. You can fake a smile but you can’t fake joy.

So what brings me joy? To be honest, when I was first asked that question it startled me. I couldn’t remember anything that brought me real joy. Not just happiness. Not just contentment. I’m happy and contented quite often, despite the struggles of the last several years. My husband makes me happy. I am happy when I am with my friends, my sons, my grandson. I’m happy reading a good book, curled up with a nice glass of wine. A fire in the fire pit, a trail ride in the UTV, floating around a lake on a pontoon boat all make me happy. But there is always some little part of me that won’t let the worries go, that keeps them ever present even if they are in the background.

Since being asked those questions about joy, I’ve tried to pay attention to where I’m happy. Can I transform that happiness into joy? That is my quest. To find joy again, to move the needle off of happy or content to the ultimate expression of life – joy. To feel that soul expanding, heart filling emotion that can’t be contained. That spills out through our eyes, and our smiles onto everyone around us.

It will take me time, I’m sure. Time to identify and recognize what brings me joy. Time to let go enough to let the joy in. But I’m determined to bring joy back to my life. Things that brought me joy in the past won’t necessarily bring me joy now, but I’ll find new things. I’ve remembered a few things that have brought me joy in the past. I know that woods and water bring me joy. I just need to spend more time among them. My silly little puppy brings me joy when he smothers me with his kisses. Writing used to bring me joy, when a sentence, a paragraph, a scene just feels perfect, that brought me joy and I intend to not let that fall away again.

Come on my journey with me. What brings you joy? When was the last time you felt joy? I’m going to focus on things that bring me joy, will you? Tell me your joy, and join me on this quest.

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A Walk in the Woods

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , on July 6, 2023| Leave a Comment »

In the early morning several young fox cubs play in the meadow in front of the house. Crouching, stalking, pouncing on each other they roll and tumble through the clover. On the opposite side of the house, a doe grazes with three, yes three, spotted fawns. It’s cool yet this morning, the heat of the afternoon just a promise as I tie my shoes and get ready for my walk.

I love my walks in the woods. As John Muir said “And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul.” I find that no matter how troubled I am, if I spend enough time in my woods, in my forest, I can find at least a moment of peace. I can get down to that one place inside of me that is connected to the earth, to the trees, to the water and the sky. That place that doesn’t worry about anything but just appreciates what I am blessed to be surrounded with.

Sure, it takes some preparation to get there. I do after all live in a modern world. I cover myself with bug spray (ugh), a necessary evil but preferrable to Lyme disease which I’ve already experienced. Protection against predators goes on my hip. The bears, wolves and coyotes won’t harm me, but there are some humans who might. Reluctantly I put my phone in my pocket, just in case. Pink ball cap on my head, walking stick in my hand, I head off.

The foxes have left the meadow, and as I walk down the path into the forest a dragonfly flits on papery wings in front of me, landing first on a white petal of a daisy then on the fiery orange of an Indian paintbrush. The blooms are gone off the raspberry bushes, their white blossoms replaced with the beginnings of what looks to be a good crop of berries this year. I always love to see the dragonflies. Not only do they eat mosquitos, but they are a symbol of change and adaptability, transformation. I’m always a little transformed when I am in the woods, how could you not be?

When I watch the sunlight play through the leaves on the trees, and see the difference it makes in the colors of green, from a pale translucence to a deep, almost black, it can begin to transform my anger to sadness. I can begin to pity those who forget that there are things much more valuable than money. Love, concern for others, the peace you get surrounded by friends, knowing others are there for you no matter what. Those things are valuable. When I see ferns wave gently back and forth in the breeze, as if they are waving me forward, my fear begins to transform into acceptance. What will happen will happen. There are so many beautiful moments during a walk in the woods, if you pay attention. Each moment, each second of beauty, transforms and changes me. It removes a tiny piece of the ugliness that has built up in my life over the last year. It reminds me that there is so much more to life than the pettiness and hatred of others, than courtrooms and lawyers, than fear and lies. It replaces that ugliness with tiny pieces of joy.

I laugh when a startled mamma turkey and her brood scurry down the path in front of me, the chicks’ little legs cycling as fast as they can to get out of my way. Why they don’t simply go into the weeds, I don’t know. I stop walking so they can safely hide. I pick a few daisies. I’ll put them in a vase on my desk as a reminder of my walk during the day if life starts to get to me again. A tiny piece of joy.

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In the still of the morning

Posted in Resolutions, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged , on August 29, 2022| 2 Comments »

I have come to love my morning walks. Not just love them, crave them. They started not only as a way to get back into shape, to lose weight, but also as a way to try to find some sanity again. I have always gone to the woods when life has been too much. John Muir wrote “And into the forest I go, to lose my mind, and find my soul”. These days I find that many times, I’m finding not just my soul, but my my mind as well. The woods settle me, balance me.

Take this morning as an example. Like many mornings, I awoke to a brain that was already racing like it was Dale Earnhardt running the Daytona 500. So many things to do, so much to get done. So many worries. There was a time when I would start the work right away, check email, put laundry in, prioritize the to do list, but now I put my socks and shoes on, strap on my sidearm, grab my walking stick, douse myself in bug spray and head out the door. Yes, I said strap on my sidearm. I live in the north woods and share my beloved forest with bears, coyotes and the occasional wolf. My measly 38 won’t do much to harm them, but it will scare them and it will alert my husband that there is a problem and he should probably come check on me.

We had thunderstorms last night, so the grass was damp. It wasn’t long before my shoes and socks were soaked through. The plus side was there were hardly any bugs out, even those annoying little gnats seem to have been washed away. It wasn’t terribly early, 9 a.m., but if you know me, that’s on the early side. When I started walking last spring, it was closer to 11 before I got out the door. Who knows, maybe by the time snow flies I’ll be out by dawn. Anyway, there was still that just rained freshness out. The further back into the forest I get, the more peaceful it feels. Sparkling sequins of raindrops still decorate the edges of the ferns, here and there a crystal rainbow spun by a spider hangs between two trees.

At this time of day in the woods, I can remember that there is still magic in this world. Through the softness of the foliage I see carmel brown, a head lifts up over the raspberry bushes. Mama doe and I meet eyes. We silently watch each other for a few minutes before she flicks her tail at me and quietly walks across the trail, followed by a fawn that still has faint white spots. I curtsy as I pass the “fairy tree” and wish her majesty a good day. I know that the malevolent force that lives near to me is not likely to be out and about in the woods at this time of day, so I don’t need to be afraid. I breathe, I walk, I watch, I admire. I find peace, even if it’s only for a short while. My brain takes a pit stop for refueling. I stop worrying about lawsuits, and loss of family, about people who care more about money than feelings and just appreciate the goodness around me. The way the light filters differently through the leaves on the trees than it does through the ferns. That there’s still a raspberry or two hiding on the bushes here and there. That a very pretty rock sparkles on the path in front of me, like a gem that spilled from a treasure chest.

By the time I return home, I feel balance again. My mind, my heart, my soul are more aligned, better able to face whatever the day will throw at me. The end of the day may see it all askew again, but if I have the courage, I can put on my socks and shoes, pick up my walking stick, and in the still of the morning go into the forest to “lose my mind and find my soul”.

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15 more hours

Posted in Family, Teenagers, tagged , , , on June 23, 2013| Leave a Comment »

I’m spending a lot of time lately driving through the countryside on small country roads.  It is both restful, and stressful.  How can it be both?  I’m teaching my 17-year-old to drive.  In Indiana teenagers can now have to wait until they are 16 1/2 before they can get their license.  My son has waited until he is 17 and 3/4,  he will be 3 months shy of his 18th birthday before he completes the required 40 hours of driving and take his test, a fact that is hard for me to understand.  I wanted my license the day I turned 16, I couldn’t wait for the independence that piece of paper represented. I started driving in the corn fields that surrounded our house well before I turned 15 and took drivers ed.  The freedom to go wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted, providing of course that I could use the car.  It was a symbol of growing up and I wanted desperately to be grown up.  My oldest son also wanted, and got, his license as soon as he turned 16.  Although I actually needed him to have his license at that point, living in the mountains of Colorado, in light of everything he managed to do that he wasn’t supposed to, there were many days when I wished I hadn’t let him get his license.  Yes, hindsight is twenty – twenty.

The current 17-year-old has been in absolutely no hurry to achieve that state of independence.  I have been the one that has pushed him to learn to drive.  I had to threaten to ground him to get him to study for the written exam necessary to get his learner’s permit.  I set a deadline by when he had to have taken it.  That was a year ago.  And he really hasn’t cared much about getting behind the wheel to practice actually driving.  Until recently.  I’m not sure what actually jump started him.  Maybe it was the fact that his girlfriend has now been driving for 4 months.  Maybe he wants to find a way to have some privacy with said girlfriend. (Hmm…maybe he shouldn’t get his license?)  Or maybe it was just a turn on the chronological wheel.  Whatever the reason, I am now spending time as a passenger traveling the byways of Indiana.  We haven’t made it to the highways yet.

For the most part, he is doing well.  Everyday he gains confidence in his driving skills, and my knuckles become a little less white (there are some indentations in the passenger side armrest, I’m sure they will go away in time).  For the most part I’ve stopped pushing my foot down as if I’m stamping on the brakes.  I’ve learned to communicate more clearly EXACTLY what action he needs to take RIGHT NOW.  And I’m actually starting to look around at the country we are driving through.

I love watching the rolling fields, green with spring planted corn.  We’ve had enough rain this year that it looks like it will be “knee-high by the 4th of July”.  Stands of trees, tall and strong against the summer sun, dot the landscape, usually surrounding  a farm homestead.  Sometimes the houses are compact and neat, white sided, fronted with neatly planted flower beds a riot in color.  Sometimes they are huge old Victorians, faded paint shadowed by ancient oaks.  Crumbling stone and concrete silos stand next to towering blue Harvestors.  Occasionally we come upon a stately old brick, with ivy climbing all the way to the top stories.  What stories each of these must hold.  How many generations were born, how many fought the earth, the wind, the rain and the sun to rest a living out of the ground, to keep this land as theirs?  How many did the earth, the wind, the rain and the sun claim as payment?   How many gave in, sold out, and moved to the city or sought greener pastures further west?  Who built that stone silo that now slowly crumbles back into the ground?  If we stopped, would the farmer driving a tractor through his field tell us the stories of his land?

We don’t stop, of course.  We have a mission to complete.  15 more hours behind the wheel before he can take his test.  15 more hours behind the wheel before he reaches another stage in his independence.  15 more hours behind the wheel while I watch the Indiana countryside roll by, and decide whether I am happy, or sad,  that he finally wants his independence.

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Welcome

Posted in Writing, tagged , , on June 12, 2012| 1 Comment »

Daydreams of the Soul.  I was going to call this blog “Musings from the north woods…”, but I think “Musings” gets overused by writers, and I’m not physically in the north woods…yet.  I will be someday, but for now, I live in a Midwest suburban town that at times is Rockwellian.  It has a brick Main Street with shops lining its wide sidewalks, restored Victorian homes and a Farmer’s Market every Saturday morning.  Sure, it has problems as every suburban town has.  We have one of the best school systems in the state, but the schools need more money to maintain the high standards we have come to expect.  Local politics can get as ugly as national politics.  There are kids in the high school who do drugs and drink, but not as many as in an inner city school.  Most people seem to care about their neighbors still.  All in all, it’s a good place to live and raise kids.  Nevertheless, to me, it’s not home.  It’s not where my soul feels settled.

When I am quiet and still, when I let my mind clear of all the daily clutter, my thoughts will always float to a little piece of heaven in Northern Wisconsin.  Surrounded by forest, on the shores of a lake untouched, I rest my head on arms propped up on knees and breathe.  When I am completely stressed, if I close my eyes and concentrate hard enough, my soul can go there, if even for just a little while and when I come back I can go on with what I need to do.    Some days I am there in the spring, with the trillium in bloom.  Sometimes it is fall and I can smell the mustiness of the fallen leaves.  It doesn’t matter what season it truly is, it can be summer but my thoughts will have me standing in knee-deep snow on the path to the back lake.

It will be a couple of years before I spend more than a week or two there at a time.  In the meantime, I will travel there in my thoughts and daydreams, occasionally taking trips to other places that catch my fancy.  In this blog, you can go with me on my wanderings.  Some days it will be about the woods, some days it may just be what I am thinking.  Some days it will be  about my latest book research or the struggles to find the right words.

Welcome to  Daydreams of the Soul.  I hope you enjoy the journey.

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