Cultivating Stillness in a Chaotic World
Have you ever questioned the definition of joy? The word is used as a synonym for happiness and contentment, but are these ideas interchangeable? And what about other nouns that are stirred in–hope, grace, mercy, and gratitude? Are they just words? All…
What if joy was a rare event, occurring only once a year? Not only would we look forward to that day, we would also worry that something might steal it. Oh, Lord, what if we got food poisoning? What if…
I once knew a lady who hunted disappointments the way a squirrel searches for acorns. As the woman repeated a litany of daily insults and horrors, her black mood seeped into me. When I finally stopped listening to the emotional…
I remember a Thanksgiving in the blue mountains of the Cumberland Rim, the kitchen spiced with the aromas of roasting turkey, sautéed onions, browning rolls. Visitors came and went, catching up on stories. One of my mother’s friends dropped off…
Joy Lessons is all about cultivating stillness in a chaotic world. My introduction to simple pleasures began nearly seventy years ago in my grandmother’s Mississippi garden. It was 1958. I was six-years-old, a scruffy girl with an abiding love for…
What if joy was a rare event, occurring only once a year? Not only would we look forward to that day, we would also worry that something might steal it. What if a catastrophe ruined our special day? What if…
During my search for a slower, sweeter lifestyle, I kept track of daily speed bumps–a whole cluster came from social media. I just couldn’t believe it. After all, I am a Facebook Failure and a Terrible Tweeter. I prefer Instagram,…
Joy has its own music, a spiritual hymn with movement and melodies, the notes playing through our days. And it can be muted by the sheer busyness of living. Without realizing it, we can become tone deaf to positive feelings….
At some point in your life, you may have put on your favorite striped outfit and asked a quintessential question: “Does this dress make me look fat?” The question beneath the question is, “Do I look ugly, self-indulgent, or weak?…
A few times a week, the neighborhood cat, Gladys, puts dead birds and moles on the doormat. These unwelcome gifts made my chest tighten, so I bought her a collar, one with bells. But she was a born killer, and…
― E.B. White
