Foreboding Joy

Sometimes I'll look at one of my cats and be completely overwhelmed by love.

For a moment, there is nothing to do.

Nothing to fix.

Nothing to think about.

Just joy.

And then, almost immediately, another thought appears.

What if something happens to them?

What if they get sick?

What if I lose them?

I've come to think of this as the strange companion of joy.

The moment something becomes precious, we become aware that it isn't permanent.

The more we love, the more there is to lose.

For a long time, I thought these thoughts meant something was wrong.

Now I think they're part of being human.

Love and vulnerability tend to arrive together.

So do gratitude and grief.

The older I get, the less interested I am in chasing joy and the more interested I am in noticing it when it appears.

A cat asleep in a sunbeam.

A conversation with a friend.

A quiet morning.

An ordinary moment that suddenly doesn't feel ordinary at all.

Maybe joy isn't something we hold onto.

Maybe it's something we notice while it's here.