I WAS DRIVING to my office and listening to the news on the radio, slumping deeper in my seat with each report. Another murder in Indy. A Greenwood toddler clinging to life at Riley Hospital while his mother’s boyfriend was behind bars awaiting beating charges. National unemployment expected to go up. Idiotic politicians and sign-carrying citizens, recklessly spreading their disinformation about health care reform and calling each other Nazis.
Some news you don’t have to summarize, just say a name and you know the story -- or punchline: Lindsay Lohan.So there it is.
Then I came to a stop sign on McFarland Road. Ordinarily, I would look in all directions and make sure it was my turn before moving on, but something caught my eye that kept me in place. There was a white-haired woman on a porch swing – not just sitting there slightly moving back and forth, but really pushing and swinging the same way a youngster does on a playground.
As I watched, I also noticed the old woman – who was wearing a short-sleeved top so loud in color that it would make Jerry Springer blush – had this wonderfully big, goofy grin on her face. Her hands were clasped behind her head as she continued to make that porch swing move faster and a bit higher. I think she might have singing, too, or revisiting some great thing from memory lane. She didn’t seem to have a care in the world.
The woman seemed to be experiencing something far deeper and more lasting than happiness. I think I was witnessing pure, unabashed, unbridled and unbelievable joy.
Sure, happiness is a lot of things, all good. Laughing until your guts feel like they will squeeze right hrough your belly button. A brain-buzzing popsicle on a sizzling summer day. Waking up early and realizing you still have two hours until the alarm jump starts you into a new day. Watching the sun rise and watching it set. New, comfortable shoes. A child or grandchild who surprises you with some off-the-wall observation about life.
I am reminded of what the late professor Randy Pausch – famous for his “Last Lecture” at Carnegie Mellon University – said when his doctor told him he was dying from pancreatic cancer. The physician advised him: ‘It’s important to behave as if you’re going to be around awhile.’
But Randy already seemed to be heading down that path: ‘Doc, I just bought a new convertible and got a vasectomy. What more do you want from me?’
There’s wisdom in both of their words. Our birth certificates don’t come with an expiration date. No warranties or guilt-free gurantees. Just life – for however long we have it and how we choose to live it. No deep brainer there.
Perhaps for all its ups and downs, sunshine and shadows – is that golden ring of joy. A golden ring each of us finds and wears differently. I think what distinguishes happiness from joy is that there is hope in joy.
I would like to think that old woman on the front porch was swaying and grinning and singing not from just some distant memory. I want to believe she was also swinging to a rhythm of hope in a world that needs so much of it.
I shut off the radio news, rolled through the intersection and headed back to work.
Some news you don’t have to summarize, just say a name and you know the story -- or punchline: Lindsay Lohan.So there it is.
Then I came to a stop sign on McFarland Road. Ordinarily, I would look in all directions and make sure it was my turn before moving on, but something caught my eye that kept me in place. There was a white-haired woman on a porch swing – not just sitting there slightly moving back and forth, but really pushing and swinging the same way a youngster does on a playground.
As I watched, I also noticed the old woman – who was wearing a short-sleeved top so loud in color that it would make Jerry Springer blush – had this wonderfully big, goofy grin on her face. Her hands were clasped behind her head as she continued to make that porch swing move faster and a bit higher. I think she might have singing, too, or revisiting some great thing from memory lane. She didn’t seem to have a care in the world.
The woman seemed to be experiencing something far deeper and more lasting than happiness. I think I was witnessing pure, unabashed, unbridled and unbelievable joy.
Sure, happiness is a lot of things, all good. Laughing until your guts feel like they will squeeze right hrough your belly button. A brain-buzzing popsicle on a sizzling summer day. Waking up early and realizing you still have two hours until the alarm jump starts you into a new day. Watching the sun rise and watching it set. New, comfortable shoes. A child or grandchild who surprises you with some off-the-wall observation about life.
I am reminded of what the late professor Randy Pausch – famous for his “Last Lecture” at Carnegie Mellon University – said when his doctor told him he was dying from pancreatic cancer. The physician advised him: ‘It’s important to behave as if you’re going to be around awhile.’
But Randy already seemed to be heading down that path: ‘Doc, I just bought a new convertible and got a vasectomy. What more do you want from me?’
There’s wisdom in both of their words. Our birth certificates don’t come with an expiration date. No warranties or guilt-free gurantees. Just life – for however long we have it and how we choose to live it. No deep brainer there.
Perhaps for all its ups and downs, sunshine and shadows – is that golden ring of joy. A golden ring each of us finds and wears differently. I think what distinguishes happiness from joy is that there is hope in joy.
I would like to think that old woman on the front porch was swaying and grinning and singing not from just some distant memory. I want to believe she was also swinging to a rhythm of hope in a world that needs so much of it.
I shut off the radio news, rolled through the intersection and headed back to work.
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