Remember Joy?

Thought for the Fortnight

The world is full of misery at the moment. We need to remind ourselves that there is still a lot of joy to be found in the world.

What brings happiness or joy? There are so many things that money will buy – a foreign cruise, a new car with all mod cons or lots of bling.

You can have all that.

I get joy from things that money can’t buy.

Grandchildren

Grandchildren often bring joy. Not always. Not every moment, for sure, not all grandchildren, perhaps – and not all in the same way.

This picture of my younger grandson, taken eight years ago, when he was aged seven, brings me joy every time I look at it. He was waiting for the bus with his mother (who took the picture) to take him home after school on a grey London afternoon. I immediately called it ‘Singing in the drizzle’.

He looks far away, wrapped up in his own thoughts, but singing to himself as he has done all his life. I find it hugely lyrical.

It is not a photo of joy, but it is a photo that brings me joy. I hope it does the same for you.

Singing

Not long ago, I was walking briskly in a nearby area on my way to get a Covid injection. It was a very grey day – as only London can be – and life felt rather dull.

Then I rounded a corner and suddenly there was singing. I thought someone had their radio on very loud and almost felt annoyed. People can be so thoughtless in this way.

But as I got closer, I realised it was a woman singing, with a loud tape recorder of some kind providing the accompaniment. She was singing ‘Imagine’, a beautiful song in my view on any day, but especially a grey one.

And then I realised that she was very, very good. When the song called for gentleness, she caressed the notes. When it called for strength, she gave it her all. She had a powerful but also sweet voice.

The power of music

I went to look, to see what she looked like. She was not glamorous. You would not pick her out in a crowd. She was wearing old clothes with a dull raincoat and was of indeterminate age – perhaps in her late 40s or so.

But, hey, could she sing! There was a huddle of people around her, listening and – perhaps like me – being taken to another place.

I wanted to stay, to remain part of the spell. But I had the appointment for my injection, so I moved on.

But I was singing ‘Imagine’ in my own head for much of the day.

London was no longer grey.

Toddler in the swimming pool

And some months ago, I was at my local pool, just finishing my allotted laps, when I heard a lot of giggling. I looked around to see a tiny girl with her father, playing in the water and chatting and clearly having a lovely time.

She was simply gorgeous. Probably of Indian or Pakistani origin, but I didn’t ask. She had a very small and graceful frame and beautiful big eyes.

Her father was a well-built man in his thirties, with an improbable ponytail down his back. He was totally involved with helping her to swim.

I went nearer and watched for a while. I asked her father how old she was and he said ‘two’, but she was so small she looked even younger.

She saw me watching and said “Look – doggy paddle” and promptly performed exactly that. Complete with a huge smile on her face.

The joy of jumping in water

Then, with her father’s help, she climbed out of the water, stood on the edge of the pool and looked down at him. To my surprise, she immediately jumped right in, although the water was well over her head – roughly four feet.

I was worried she would come up weeping, with water in her eyes and nose. That is what would have happened to me at her age.

No, she came up giggling and laughing. Her father was right there for her, of course.

I suggested to him that she was a ‘natural’. He said you couldn’t get him out of the water when he was her age. “A natural, then” I repeated.

And then she did it again. Climbed out, jumped in with a big splash, and bobbed up with a laughing face. What unadulterated joy.

Happiness all day

She made me feel so joyful myself, again, I wanted to stay. But I was late for lunch and had to get moving. I waved good-bye, got myself dressed and walked home.

But, again, I felt good all day.

Give me an exuberant little girl and all my troubles vanish.

Or a song sung beautifully. Or a little boy lost in his own thoughts, but dancing nonetheless.

An early version of this article was first published on Sixtyandme.com.

You all know that I love to get comments from you all. What brings you joy? Do you have recent examples? Do share your thoughts with me (and others who read them).

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