Except for the downer at the end, these were filled with wisdom and love. I especially loved Charlie Pepiton's take on joy coming amidst the darkest times; his example of Christ's birth foreshadowing death while returning the light at the moment of the darkest part of the season.
I'd like to add another exquisite moment I experienced last night. Just as the sun dipped halfway below the mountain's horizon, it glowed with a colorful halo. Above it, there was a rainbow sundog affect. A semi-circle of brilliant colors. I've never seen that before. And, Tonya, it was indeed fleeting, but I'll hold on to it as hard as I can for as long as possible.
That sounds absolutely incredible, Sue. And I loved Charlie's too. If you give the last entry another read, I think you'll find more light in it. I found it brave and honest, the intense mixture of despair and stunning hope.
Alas, I saw a woman who reached out to connect and was humiliated. Thus, she fled. Been there myself. I'm glad she plays games, especially word games with her son. They connect on that level. Too bad the Dad and son refused to.
Wow. So amazing when one is in that moment. Seen one or two myself. Did you notice the green line exactly below it on the edge of the horizon? Part of the spectrum split off from the sundog. Happy for you, Sue.
That all of you writers and creatives are sharing your joy brings me great joy. I will bookmark this story and return to it. Other experiences that bring me joy: spending time looking at art and talking to the people who make art to learn about their creative practice and what drives them to do what they do. The smell of oil paint brings me joy. Going to a local bar, the Rhumbline, to hear live music. And, cooking for friends and family; it's simple food and not a culinary performance, because it's more about spending time around the table, talking, telling jokes, sharing serious stuff, and being grateful for each others' company.
I love your examples! In each case, it's about connection to others and to something meaningful. Each time I really pay attention and take note of what experiences I love, I realize it's a push to re-center myself around those things. A connection to others, to art, to beauty.
I see that salute! May your downhills be well earned. 🎉 I would add that I just made the transition from classic to skate skiing. My downhills are faster than ever, but oof, does it ever cost more, at this stage, in that uphill grind.
Being old and wise enough to know that beauty comes from inside to share with others, that I love myself and so many other wonderful people and animals. I care deeply about them, I don't shy away from anything, I speak up when a wrong is done to me or someone else, that I am brave, and always have been. But didn't always know that, which means only that its a nice surprise. That I am not afraid of dying, because I can feel right now more than ever how incredible and wonderful a life, hardly easy, I have already lived, with more to come. I am a warrior on a path to protect the next innocent moment that surprises me in myself. My husband's whole being, rough edges, or not. My own rough edges, because they make me human and believable, and different.
I should add you, Tonya, Paul, and Santo, just for starters. Your love and care and responsibility for each other and so many others, not just here with us on Juke, also a joy.
Except for the downer at the end, these were filled with wisdom and love. I especially loved Charlie Pepiton's take on joy coming amidst the darkest times; his example of Christ's birth foreshadowing death while returning the light at the moment of the darkest part of the season.
I'd like to add another exquisite moment I experienced last night. Just as the sun dipped halfway below the mountain's horizon, it glowed with a colorful halo. Above it, there was a rainbow sundog affect. A semi-circle of brilliant colors. I've never seen that before. And, Tonya, it was indeed fleeting, but I'll hold on to it as hard as I can for as long as possible.
That sounds absolutely incredible, Sue. And I loved Charlie's too. If you give the last entry another read, I think you'll find more light in it. I found it brave and honest, the intense mixture of despair and stunning hope.
Alas, I saw a woman who reached out to connect and was humiliated. Thus, she fled. Been there myself. I'm glad she plays games, especially word games with her son. They connect on that level. Too bad the Dad and son refused to.
Wow. So amazing when one is in that moment. Seen one or two myself. Did you notice the green line exactly below it on the edge of the horizon? Part of the spectrum split off from the sundog. Happy for you, Sue.
That all of you writers and creatives are sharing your joy brings me great joy. I will bookmark this story and return to it. Other experiences that bring me joy: spending time looking at art and talking to the people who make art to learn about their creative practice and what drives them to do what they do. The smell of oil paint brings me joy. Going to a local bar, the Rhumbline, to hear live music. And, cooking for friends and family; it's simple food and not a culinary performance, because it's more about spending time around the table, talking, telling jokes, sharing serious stuff, and being grateful for each others' company.
I love your examples! In each case, it's about connection to others and to something meaningful. Each time I really pay attention and take note of what experiences I love, I realize it's a push to re-center myself around those things. A connection to others, to art, to beauty.
What an array of joyful experiences...some vicarious, some relatable, all beautiful.
Me and Charlie out there, doing the nordic joy grind. 🫡
I see that salute! May your downhills be well earned. 🎉 I would add that I just made the transition from classic to skate skiing. My downhills are faster than ever, but oof, does it ever cost more, at this stage, in that uphill grind.
Whatever that entails, it sounds pretty great.
My very favorite is Anthony Head's joy of having written a book, as a past event.
Yes! I was not expecting to feel genuinely jealous of anyone when I asked the question, but I am jealous of that one.
Being old and wise enough to know that beauty comes from inside to share with others, that I love myself and so many other wonderful people and animals. I care deeply about them, I don't shy away from anything, I speak up when a wrong is done to me or someone else, that I am brave, and always have been. But didn't always know that, which means only that its a nice surprise. That I am not afraid of dying, because I can feel right now more than ever how incredible and wonderful a life, hardly easy, I have already lived, with more to come. I am a warrior on a path to protect the next innocent moment that surprises me in myself. My husband's whole being, rough edges, or not. My own rough edges, because they make me human and believable, and different.
This list is absolutely beautiful, Connie. I love the idea of being a warrior to protect your own innocence.
I should add you, Tonya, Paul, and Santo, just for starters. Your love and care and responsibility for each other and so many others, not just here with us on Juke, also a joy.
Reading this brought me joy
I have seen those dimples when Paul is really smiling…
Thank you
I know his dimples, too. Thing I love most, his honesty.
These things are important