Joy and expressions of love are total threats to constructs that depend on us to be depressed, oppressed, and unhealthy.
One of my friends finds their joy witnessing the sun dry the peel of an orange that they have strung across their window. Another rejoices as her hands plunge into the cool soil of gardens.
One dropped everything on her schedule to move across the world and cross finish lines. Another confidently browsed for her first tour bus.
One took a bet on herself and built a workplace that empowers and employs the creative community where she lives. Another rode his motorcycle from New York to California.
Every morning I gather my coffee and an archive of podcasts, and I cozy up in my nest of vivid paints and heavy notebooks. The process of painting brilliant patterns is my form of meditation. It is a space where I have found my joy illuminated. Where do you find yours?