A FEW JOYFUL MOMENTS

I’m sure you’ll be keen to know how I’ve expressed my joy today in the face of certain drizzle and adversity. Baby steps, people. I was still a bit down when I stumbled out of the front door into the dark, rainy morning.

There were a few joyful moments though. I found out my Mum is probably going to be well enough to travel on their world cruise after all; that’s a delight, seeing as last week they were about to cancel it. Thank you, God.

I was also able to help my niece with her ratio homework. She couldn’t believe how simple it turned out to be. I couldn’t believe how excited I was by mathematics. It’s a very old and familiar feeling that.

Plus, I got to spend almost the whole afternoon locked in a meeting room on my own, recording and narrating a demo video. I enjoyed that a lot: explaining exactly what I was doing, talking into my headset to an invisible audience, following a script about as loosely as possible. I think I just liked it because it was different. And somehow a five-minute video took me three hours to record.

I also made some notes on a short essay I’m writing for fun, about swearing and why I refuse to do it. It’s tough to keep it light and not make it pompous, but I amused myself with odd sentences like:

‘Of course, Jesus and the disciples predated the invention of the flushable toilet by over a thousand years’... 

... which, I’ll admit, looked a lot less disrespectful in the context. Though, you have to admit, it is at least true.

Then, after a train of thought, I heard myself ask Erica this genuinely sincere question, without irony:

“Is it true that Christmas trees have pagan roots?”

She laughed (I think she thought the pun had been deliberate) and asked me whether I thought fir trees might be common in Bethlehem.

I smiled. Everything can be redeemed, I thought. Though I’m still not sure about swear words.

Even the fire drill was sort of enjoyable. I’m still a fire warden, so I once again had to check the toilets and the training room for anyone who might accidentally be burned alive. I got back to my desk and slipped out of my luminous jacket.

“Why do they always plan it for when it’s raining?” asked someone. I sighed. I don’t know. I said I hoped a real fire would be more understanding and only choose to break out during a heatwave, or the exact moment the ice cream van shows up.

I didn’t feel great about being sarcastic. In case you were wondering, it’s likely that sarcasm is one of the thieves of joy. Don’t let a sarcastic response snatch it from you.

Well, as I said, baby steps. And tomorrow’s another day for conscious decision-making. Weeping may endure for the night, but joy shows up in the morning. It might take a while, through the leafy wind and the winter rain, but I’ll be grateful to see it.