One of two pieces on Joy, part 2 tomorrow. Joy was not a conspicuous presence in my childhood home. My parents were kind and loving, but both had been raised in the Protestant conservatism of rural Alabama during the Depression years. Laughter, contemporary music, dancing, drinking—none of these were part of my growing up years. […]Collective Joy as Our Birthright by Mary Gelfand
As many who read my blog know, I’m recovering from a total hip replacement post bilateral mastectomy + DIEP flap reconstruction and chemo after being diagnosed with cancer.
I’m quite looking forward to being able to dance again.
I used to feel that I could not achieve ecstatic states.
This morning feeling my delight bubble and bloom whilst being serenaded by magpies as I performed some of my morning prayers on the crisp last morning of Winter (Southern Hemisphere), I wonder if perhaps I was just overthinking it.