Even the word itself is fleeting. It's a little bubble of sound, gone almost before it has arrived. Joy leaves a taste of effervescence lingering in memory long after its moment has passed.
I hope to long remember finishing my walk to Fisterre, the end of the world, in September. The cool air on my face during my early morning walk up the long hill to the lighthouse. The warmth of the rising sun at my back; the glint of diamond sparkles on the ocean waves far below. The quiet as I took the last steps of my journey, found the right spot, and settled onto the rocks. The feeling I'd found a precious puddle of holiness; mine alone in that peaceful morning hour. The joy that seeped from the puddle into my soul, quietly filling all the spaces, sending all other emotions elsewhere for a time, leaving room for nothing but exultation. I'd done it!
Such joy, such fulfillment, could not stay; letting go of the moment and continuing on is a required condition of the human experience. (I don't have to like it; I just have to accept it as truth.)
As I lit my candles last night, stilled my mind, and focused on the moments Joy has graced my life, not only the memories returned - to my delight I felt echoes of the actual feeling surrounding those highlight experiences.
And, because it is what it is, Joy dragged along its friends, Hope and Peace, from the earlier weeks of Advent.
Again this week, I've struggled to keep my balance amidst the tide of hard news coming my way. For a few brief moments, none of it mattered. I wouldn't have thought there could be such power in the light of a few candles, but there it was, and I am so grateful it was there.
May Joy also come to you, my friends.
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