10 Joyful Things

Yelling, alpinism, things made by hand, being a beginner & all the rest

We all need to be hunting the good stuff right now, so I bring you ten things that have been bringing me joy in the past few weeks. What has been bringing you joy?

1. Books. Giving my kids the books that I have loved and talking to them about them is one of my favorite things on earth. Once a teacher, always a teacher. Right now, I am talking to my 11-year-old daughter, Ruthie, about To Kill a Mockingbird. As I tuck her into bed she says, “All of the evidence points to the fact that the girl’s father did it, but they’re going to convict Jim, just because he is black.” “It’s awful,” I say and she nods her head. Books form our moral imaginations, especially the books we read as kids. I come out of her room, and my teenager is bouncing around the living room. He just finished The Road by Cormac McCarthy. I ask him “Are you carrying the fire, Clem?” And he says, “I hope so.” Salt and light. What are you reading?

   

2. Fighting With My Family (the movie, not the pastime, haha.) I’ve previously written about family movie nights, the tradition my husband started, because we are always on the lookout for movies people of different ages can enjoy. We have watched a lot of sports movies: Miracle, Remember the Titans, The Mighty Macs, The Young Woman and the Sea…I’ve seen them all. Sports movies typically tell the story of an underdog facing seemingly insurmountable odds, who gets the W, or at least learns a lot along the way. They may be cheesy, but they’re also joyful, because they remind us that everything, even our humiliations and misfortunes can become fuel, and that hard things can be overcome. I loved “Fighting With My Family,” which tells the true story of a wannabe pro-wrestling family in England, reformed robber Ricky, his wife who he met when she was living on the streets, and their daughter Paige and son Zak. The four of them wrestle in tiny venues in England, until Paige and Zak get a chance to audition for the WWE. It’s funny, it's sweet, it’s encouraging, it lets you walk a mile in someone else’s shoes. Also I will watch anything with Florence Pugh. Anything.

3. Tending to the garden is my favorite “chore.” Nature reminds me that things worth doing take time. You plant a little nothing tree and over the years, you watch it grow into something sturdy and substantial. “Is that a pear?!” It’s all very enlivening. It reminds me of what Rosemary Radford Ruether once wrote, “Babies grow in wombs without help from computers. The sun rises every day. Con Ed sends no bill for sunshine. The harmony is still there….” It is.

   

4. My youngest, is on his first soccer team, so I sit twice a week for an hour at a park near my house and just watch him play. He’s terrible. He loves it. When one of his teammates scores he runs and whoops and skips, and extends his arms like the wings of an airplane. Sometimes there is a somersault. I have learned from my children how to embrace being a beginner, because kids are always learning new things. When parents professionalize early childhood and specialize kids at a young age they sometimes suck the joy out of sport. Johnny’s coach said, “You ready?” before the first game. He replied, “Kinda.” Good enough. You’re never ready for something new, just join the adult kickball league already, because it might be fun. The word dilettante is often used as an insult, but it comes from the Latin word “delectare” which mean to delight. Delight comes from being lousy, and getting a little less lousy as you play/learn/grow/try hard.

   

5. Yelling. When was the last time you tried something so hard you had to yell to do the move. Try it. It’s amazing. The other night at the climbing gym, I was leading a hard climb with my friend and taking whip after whip. Climbers call lead falls “whips” because they can be big. When you lead a climb, you bring the rope up as you ascend. If you fall above your last clip it’s a big fall. That night, I was leading hard climbs that felt easy, and then I jumped on one that felt like being a beginner all over again. I was yelling and falling and fighting so hard for every single move for 15 minutes that one clip from the top I decided to give up. “OK,” I said, “Let me down, I don’t have it in me.” My friend looked up at me and said, “Nope.” So, I dug deep and finished it out. It was ugly. My whole body was shaking. But you know what? That climb was the most rewarding of all. That’s the one I remember, not the ones that were smooth and effortless. I took so many whips on that climb that when I finally got lowered, three people I didn’t know had gathered to stare at me. I guess I was yelling a lot. I came down a sweaty mess but I felt amazing. Free. We need to yell sometimes. Not at people, just into the void. Like this:

6. The little daily human interactions that make you feel a sense of connection to your community. My kid runs with his dad before school, and many days he runs into his uncle or his grandpa on the trail. It makes him feel happy to see them. It gives him a sense of place. I am here for those tiny interactions with people that are glad we glad exist. I get a boost from hugging a friend at school pick-up or waving to a neighbor when they drive by. It doesn’t have to be a big thing, a dinner party, or some super meaningful conversation… it can just be “Hi, I see you, I love you, have a good day.” It’s in the eyes. Just to be known and valued, even a little bit, even for a moment. It’s enough.

7. Beautiful things made by people not robots. My niece Anna is in college. She’s a potter, and one day I admired a cup she had thrown on the wheel. It felt light in my hand with a delicate rim and the name of a woman she admired from history, Sister Rosetta Tharpe, painted in cursive around the base. I told her how lovely it was. She gave me a set of six. I use them every day and feel connected to all my memories of climbing with her as a teenager. The provenance of the things we own, the story of where they came from and who made them changes the way we experience them and, by extension, life. Sitting down at a table made by people . . . it just hits different. Good design makes life better. I truly believe this, and not just because I own Keating Woodworks.

   

8. Dancing in the kitchen after dinner. Enough said. We would be happier as a society if we danced more.

9. My son Johnny skips to school. He doesn’t walk, he skips. I wave out the upstairs window at him, and he says, “Good luck with your podcast. I hope the Internet works.” Hard to be sad while skipping or twirling, or generally forgetting what one looks like.

10. I did a big alpine climb in Rocky Mountain National Park this week with Kate Cole. The 14 miles of hiking over talus with a super heavy pack at altitude was truly one of the most physically challenging things I have ever done. But the beauty, ah, the beauty. I saw: herds of elk, waterfalls, a sunrise and sunset at 10,000 feet, marmots with little bouquets of flowers in their mouths, blue jays, a sky full of stars, and the aspens just starting to turn. A longer story for another day, but this world is beautiful... make the two-hour drive and go to a National Park.