Joy

I wish I could still find the joy that hides inside all of life’s encounters and experiences.

When I was little the world was such an amazing place. Every day was full of possibilities. Waking up and getting dressed in the morning was like preparing for a journey. Stepping out the front door was something I looked forward to as I lay in bed every night.

I used to wonder what was in store for me. What amazing new things I’d discover. Now I dread the next day. Hell, I dread the next fifteen minutes. I no longer imagine all the wonderful things out there, waiting to be uncovered by an inquisitive little boy bent on understanding the universe; I imagine all the failures I might commit and all the obstacles I might face.

I wish, more than any other wish I have made in my short life, that I could recapture that joy, that fascination with the world. Things were so simple back then, it’s like life was an unlimited amusement park and I had the ultimate wristband – an imagination and a curious disposition. Now life is like a trudging internment camp, I don’t even want to be here anymore.

Sometimes I see it out of the corner of my eye, an instantaneous flash that, by the time I look in its direction, has fled.

I see it in my kids though, and I am able to take comfort knowing that they see the world just how I did when I was an excited little boy.

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