Saturday, January 3, 2009

Joy comes in sips, not gulps

I envy folks who have time to blog. I’m usually so far behind in answering emails or letters or even washing the dishes that to take the time to sit down and write about what’s going on in my world is a little daunting. But I shall try to be diligent and post something at least once in a while.
I recently filled out a form on a website that really forced me to think. It’s asked all kinds of thoughtful questions. Like, what’s my greatest flaw? Gee, do I have to admit one?
Who do I most admire? My parents and Barack Obama.
What talent would I like to have? I’d love to be able to dance. I feel the music, but my body does not respond. My fingers, do, however. Maybe my dancing comes through words.

What are my five favorite songs? I don’t really have such a list, but I’ll start with: What a wonderful World sung by Louis Armstrong. The Rainbow Connection sung by Kermit the Frog. Sunshine on my Shoulders sung by John Denver. Bumpin by Wes Montgomery. Brown Baby sung by Oscar Brown, Jr. Lots of others.

What are my favorite songs? I had to think about that one for awhile. What do I hum in the shower? What’s on the most played list on my iPod? I like a wide variety of music and it really depends on my mood. I listen to classical as well as country. I like the blues. I like songs with great beats and songs that are silly. So I chose a few I can listen to over and over.
The song I most recently added to my playlist is called When you Taught Me How to Dance by Katie Melua. It’s from the soundtrack of a movie about Beatrix Potter—the woman who wrote the Peter Rabbit stories. (Yes, there is such a movie! It was a Sunday afternoon and I clicked on Showtime and the movie was there. I couldn’t turn it off because it was about a WRITER!) Anyway I really liked the song. Maybe because I can’t dance. Maybe because my daughter IS a beautiful dancer. But the song clicked with me—I thought it was pretty and a little sad. It was hard for women back then to be independent and free, hard to be a writer. But she succeeded. I guess I admire that.

Or, what is perfect happiness? Hmm, that’s one of those questions that forces a person to evaluate the very essence of life. Heavy. I think perfect happiness is a beautiful sunset, the giggle of a grandchild, the first snowfall. It’s the little things that make happy moments, not the grand events. Joy comes in sips, not gulps.



  1. B. Potter is one of my idols because she began self publishing (sipping a smile).

  2. For me, I didn't realize perfect happiness until tragedy struck. And then it hit me, I was happy all along and I just didn't know it.