I looked up the meaning of joy because I was curious if my personal meaning matched the prevalent meaning, and it appears to be the same. To me, joy is an intense feeling, a kinetic emotion of delight and elation and even jubilation. I call it a kinetic emotion because it seems to be one of movement, an uplifting rather than a more static feeling of perhaps contentment or satisfaction.
Nothing anymore gives me that kinetic feeling of joy, nor does much of anything make me feel the lowering kinetic emotions such as anger and angst and outrage. I’m usually balanced somewhere in the middle rather than clinging to a vastly swinging emotional pendulum, which is how I like it.
There are many simple activities that bring me satisfaction, that take me out of myself and absorb my attention. I used to go to the library all the time, but I’ve taken against that simple pleasure, and so I find other things to do rather than spend all my time reading. Daily blogging, obviously, is one thing that takes up time once dedicated to reading. (I say obviously because . . . here I am!)
I’ve also bought a bunch of pencil puzzles books, a deal since they are outdated magazines, but that’s certainly not a problem since they’re all new to me. There are plenty of different kind of puzzles to keep my mind active, and I tend to think doing puzzles is better for mental stimulation than reading is.
Another activity I’m getting back into is paint-by-number. I used to get a kit occasionally when I was a child, and always enjoyed them, but then they disappeared for decades. My sister sent me a couple of kits for Christmas a few years ago, and that got me started again. They make me feel as if I am actually painting when all I am doing is coloring with paints, but filling in all those shapes satisfies something in me — my sense of order, perhaps.
Doing puzzles seems to be replacing reading, though I do read the books I have in the house especially when I eat. (I can’t seem to develop the habit of sitting down at a table by myself to eat. I know it’s supposed to be better for me, but it seems too bizarre and maybe too earthy to do nothing but concentrate on eating, which leads me to believe I don’t really like to eat.) And doing paint-by-number seems to be replacing computer games, though I still check in with a hidden object game most days.
And, of course, there is gardening. How could I have forgotten that, especially since I just came in from watering my plants and picking a few weeds.
Doing simple things gives my life a sense of balance, peace, and sometimes satisfaction, though the satisfaction doesn’t come from the doing so much as the having done. Seeing a picture come to life, finishing a puzzle book and starting a new one, seeing flowers growing in my yard and basking in the greenness all give me something better than joy. They give me a quiet feeling of contentment.
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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One
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