There's a line in the poem that inspired this blog that I often overlook-"At times Joy is elusive-she seems to disappear even as we approach her."
Joy has been elusive for me these past couple of weeks. And I've been hesitant to write about it because this blog is supposed to be about the good things. The wonder. The happiness. The joy.
But that lack. That slipping through my fingers. Is just as much a part of my journey as the times when I'm, "in love with life, all of it, the sun and the rain and the rainbow."
But I tend to think you won't like me. Or you'll stop reading me. If I tell you about the rain. What I forget is that sometimes it's the rain that connects us the most. Gives us permission to fall apart a little. Cry. Scream. And be ok about that. Because maybe if I am brave enough to tell you about how I fell out of joy. How I didn't take down my Christmas tree until February. Or wash dishes for a month. Or ignored phone calls. Or wrestled with whether I should go back on my anti-depressants. You'll feel a little less alone. And joy can come back in somewhere for someone.
And really isn't that what this is all about?
So, Internet, I had a shitty month. It happens sometimes. But, thankfully, Joy, "wait[s] for us. Her desire to walk with us is as great as our longing to accompany her."
If she's left you, know that you'll find her again too. And in the meantime, we'll all be here waiting and cheering you on while you find your way back.