A few days ago, on our way up into southern British Columbia’s Fraser River valley, my husband and I peered out the bus windows into the steep ravine as we curled along the road, the mountains towering above us. Suddenly, Michael’s posture straightened, his face lit up, he pointed and said, “Look! A train! See it?” There it was, far below at the edge of the river, a red train curling, like us, through the valley. For about a minute, we kept losing sight of it, then seeing it again, Michael glued to the window the whole time.
I know this about my husband: Trains send his heart soaring. It goes way back, to a childhood in Germany, to model train sets, long train tours with his best friend, the beauty of the trains themselves, and, more recently, the fun we had during our train trips in Europe this spring. As Michael leaned forward, glued to the train moving along the Fraser River, pure, clear joy filled him up and overflowed as an audible exhale of joy.
I found myself watching Michael more than I watched the train — wondering about the power of joy to take over our bodies when it’s strong enough, wondering what joys do that for me.
What does it for you? What makes you involuntarily exhale joy loudly enough for someone else to hear? Ask someone close to you for clues. Then see how much of that joy you can pull into your life on a regular basis.
“It’s a helluva start, being able to recognize what makes you happy.”
~ Lucille Ball
