Grateful for joy in small moments

A flower blooming beside the trail. A bird singing in the morning. A smile from a stranger. Joy often arrives quietly, asking only that we notice it. Visit "www.ThankU.io" for the full story. #ThankU.io #Grateful #SantaCruzMountains

July's theme is Grateful for Joy Shared, but before joy can be shared, it often arrives as a gift. Sometimes that gift comes in a surprising form.

We tend to think of gifts as things added to our lives. A new opportunity. A new friendship. A new adventure. Yet some of the most meaningful gifts arrive when something is taken away. A responsibility ends. An obligation loosens its grip. A role we thought was ours to carry is set down. What remains is something many of us rarely receive enough of: time.

This spring taught me an unexpected lesson about time. For much of my life, I have been a person who shows up, helps out, volunteers, organizes, supports, encourages, and carries. There is satisfaction in being useful. There is joy in service. There is purpose in contributing to something larger than ourselves. Yet there is also a subtle danger. If we are not careful, we can begin to believe that our value comes from how much we do.

Many people retire from work but never retire from obligation. One set of responsibilities is replaced with another. Calendars remain full. Commitments multiply. There is always one more project, one more meeting, one more person who needs help. Somewhere along the way, we begin postponing our own lives until everything else is finished.

Recently, I stumbled across an article that challenged a belief I didn't even realize I was carrying. The idea was simple: Rest is not a reward. Rest is part of life.  Earth shaking!

That thought stayed with me.

How often have I told myself that I can relax after the work is done? After the project is completed. After the house is organized. After the email is answered. After everyone else is taken care of.

The problem is that the finish line keeps moving.

There is always another task waiting.

What if life was never meant to be enjoyed only after everything is finished?

What if the invitation is to enjoy it now?

That realization has shown up in small ways. This past weekend, I did almost nothing that would look productive on a checklist. I stayed home. I watched a Formula One race with Jim. I worked on a cross-stitch project. I painted angels on Christmas ornaments. At one point, I wandered downstairs, poured a cup of coffee, sat at the piano, and played a tune for no reason at all.

Nothing was accomplished.

Everything was accomplished.

The gift was not the cross-stitch or the painted angel or the piano music. The gift was the freedom to choose them.

As I look back, many of my happiest memories share this same quality. They are not grand achievements. They are moments of being fully present. A walk through the Santa Cruz Mountains. A conversation with a friend. A “cosmic hug” sitting at the Jikoji Zen meditation pond. A flower blooming where I did not expect it. A quiet morning before the day begins. A laugh shared with family. The simple pleasure of noticing something beautiful.

Perhaps that is why joy often arrives in such small packages. As author Sharon Draper wrote, "Joy comes in sips, not gulps."

A sip of coffee.

A sip of music.

A sip of sunlight.

A sip of gratitude.

When our schedules are crowded, we can miss those moments. Not because they are absent, but because we are rushing past them. Yet when we create a little space, they appear everywhere. In the earth's green covering of grass. In the blue serenity of the sky. In the quiet corners of our own lives.

The longer I live, the more I appreciate that joy does not need to be manufactured. It does not need to be earned. It is already here, waiting to be noticed.

And perhaps that is the first gift of this month.

Time.

Freedom.

Permission.

The chance to rediscover what brings us alive.

Sometimes the gifts we receive are not things added to our lives.  Sometimes they are the burdens we finally set down.  This July, I am grateful for the gift of time and the freedom to enjoy it.  And I am discovering that the sharing may be the treasure.