“Pure joy…”

 

Shared by Breanne Smedley

The nightly routine in our home starts around 6:30pm.

After dinner, we take Charlee upstairs to her bedroom.

Rather, she squirms and presses against me the moment my foot touches the bottom stair.

She wants me to set her down because she’s obsessed with climbing the stairs herself. She reaches for my hand, though, because she no longer wants to crawl the stairs.

She wants to walk them. But when the stair comes up to your knee, you need a little support.

At the top, we say “ta-daaa!”

She repeats, “Daaaaaa!”

Then comes pajamas, teeth brushing (a whole adventure itself), and a story.

After the story comes the part of the routine I cherish the most.

After Brett gives her his kisses, the lights go off I hold her in my arms.

Her body goes limp and her head rests on my shoulder while she strokes my hair.

I sing (not well), “You are my sunshine…”

At the end, she lifts her head, looks me in the eyes and smiles.

With two hands, she holds my head and draws my face towards hers for a kiss, then rests her head back on my shoulders.

I put her down in her crib and she immediately grabs her teddy bear and snuggles it into her body as she closes her eyes.

When I look at her in her crib, snuggled up about to fall into a deep sleep, a feeling of joy overcomes me.

At least I think it’s joy…

A deep feeling of happiness as I look at her, not realizing that I could have the capacity to love someone as much as I love Charlee.

However, sometimes my mind goes somewhere else.

I get that feeling of joy, then immediately follow it with the “what ifs…”

I think to myself, this is too good to be true.

Then, start playing unimaginable things that could happen to Charlee.

Car crash.
Cancer. 
Accidents.

As if to bring me back to reality.

Yesterday, I watched Brené Brown’s The Call to Courage on Netflix.

According to her research, there is one emotion that requires the most vulnerability.

Joy.

And that most people start to hedge when they feel it.

Dress-rehearse trauma.

For the fear that if they allow themselves to feel it for too long, the hurt will be greater if anything were to happen to take it away.

As if the thought of something tragic happening will prevent it, or make it easier to handle if it does.

It takes courage to stay in the feeling of joy. To me, joy feels like I’m exposed. My guard is down.

It requires vulnerability.

To lean in, and stay in.

Brown’s research also pointed to one variable that allows us to stay in the joy, rather than out.

Gratitude.

Instead of imagining all that could go wrong, we allow ourselves to be grateful for the moment, people, and experiences.

Allow ourselves to stay vulnerable.

Allow ourselves to experience pure joy.

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#MindfullyEvolving

#FiercelyOptimistic

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