As I was getting dressed one morning, I laughed to Todd over how weird it is that I hate that part of my day and one of my good friends loves it—it’s her favorite part of the day. I still can’t get over it. To me it’s a time sucker that prevents me from getting on with my what I really want to do. I don’t love any of my clothes, I’m not into fashion; I just don’t put much thought into what I wear. I can never figure out my hair, and I don’t like a lot of makeup. I just want to cover up and move on, brushing past this phase of the day as quickly as possible without looking back. But today as I was putting on my mascara and choosing my clothes, I tweaked my thoughts a bit. Maybe it stemmed from a little exchange the other day with friends, maybe with that seated in the back of my mind, I subconsciously invited it to come to the forefront and try it out for myself. We were talking about gifts and a friend gave another friend a mug with the word Joy on it. Both excitedly exclaimed that this was her favorite word—how meaningful. And what a great lens with which to look at life through.
Going back, I actually do like getting ready on Sundays for some reason. Maybe it’s because I wear eye shadow and a skirt and heels, I feel more girly; it feels a little more purposeful. Every other day I just need clothes I can walk with my friends, mop the floor, and cook in. I need wash-and-wear, comfortable, non-fancy attire, just jeans and t-shirt outfits. But I decided since I had to do it anyway, I may as well find joy in it. Taking in the colors and textures, noticing that while I could wear a sweater if I wanted, it’s warm enough that I don’t have to, I felt grateful for clothes, thankful for a closet—while certainly not jammed packed—that offers me an array of options that fit my mood or activities of the day or the temperature outside. With a simple tweak in my thinking, I found joy!
And since I was putting on mascara anyway, I decided to see the fun in it, to appreciate the transformation from almost no eyelash color to definition in a matter of seconds, some kind of modern miracle. So delightful! Joy!
I thought back to the pile of dishes I was up against the other night. The dishwasher was full in minutes, so I could either do all the rest by hand or wait till I could make a second load. I actually like doing dishes, it’s just that I normally have so many other things I’d rather do. But since I was there, since it was the task at hand, I decided to just relish the hot water and bubbles, the simple pleasure of seeing one dish after another transformed and clean, drying off to the side. And then I wiped under the grates of the gas stove along with the counters, so satisfying and fulfilling to see our kitchen come to order with just a little effort. Joy!
I hate running around. Ask anyone. I will go to any lengths to use what I have at home before venturing out. The nicest thing anyone can do for me is run my kids around or do an errand for me. But as a mom I just happen to have a lot. So I bring my pretty music with me. I find that I can look forward to the time alone to think and to talk things over with Heavenly Father, to listen for his voice and find some answers. I’m locked in my van anyway, may as well fill it up with joy.
Normally writing out Christmas card envelopes by hand can get sort of tedious, not really my favorite past time. But as I was doing the last of them just the other day, I discovered I could enjoy even this ordinary task. I took pleasure in seeing my handwriting across the blank white space and from thinking about the families and individuals I was writing to, reminiscing on our times together, our history, and how our lives have changed; this seemingly monotonous undertaking actually turned into a walk down memory lane and sparked a little bit of joy in my heart.
I was thinking along these lines as I made my weekly menu, something else I hate. But I decided since I had to do it anyway, I may as well get into it. So I got out a cookbook I hadn’t made much from and I sifted through some of my older recipes, and I actually got a little thrill from remembering dinners we’d liked in the past that we hadn’t made for awhile and from seeing new recipes that looked promising. Instead of just hurrying through the task and having the same things we always have, this simple shift in thinking brought not only joy to the moment, but it carried through the week as we enjoyed new and favorite dinners together.
With the dry winters here in Montana, lotion is a staple. And I do my hands and feet all the time. Just like getting dressed, nothing extraordinary about it. Except why not? I love being touched, and I especially love having my feet rubbed. So I tune in and enjoy the few minutes each morning to massage my lotion into them, paying attention to how good it feels. Joy!
Along with cold and dry, Montana winters also bring a lot of darkness—on both ends of the day. I normally spend as little time out in the chilly mornings and nights as possible, ducking quickly from our vehicles to the house. But I stopped just the other night as I was coming from the car and looked up. The coldest nights are generally the cloudless ones. And the black night sky is the perfect backdrop to really see the stars. It’s breathtaking. I was up taking Callum to his friend’s house to go snowboarding just this morning before 6 and same thing: just a smattering of a million stars everywhere I looked. I was so grateful to have been out in it even though it was crisp; it’s so worth it to pause and to enjoy the moment.
Yep, that was the dogs wanting to get up at 4:45 the other morning, the awkward time between a bathroom break and getting up for the day. I resented their pleas; lying cozily in the dark, I silently petitioned them to settle down and sleep for another half hour at least. But I know what it’s like to need to go, so I let them out and folded the batch of laundry in the dryer while I waited. It’s actually a very pleasant time of day when the house is silent except for the heater coming to life after a chilly evening. I love the tiniest rays of sun that will appear before long, the satisfaction of a good night’s sleep, grateful we were safe, that there were no mishaps, that I wasn’t left wide awake for hours. The early morning is a beautiful time to reflect on the smallest of blessings, to notice the house we’re so lucky to have and to take in the world with new eyes in different light. And so whether we’re up with a baby or sick child or fire alarm or spouse who isn’t falling back to sleep or dog that just can’t hold it, why not switch our thinking around and, since we’re awake anyway, just behold the joy in the unexpected wakefulness and savor the moment with a baby who’s growing up so fast, cuddle up closer to your spouse who you never get enough of, say a silent prayer that the smoke detector works and that you get to be a mom to your little one, that he has you to comfort him?
And so it goes. We have bullet points of our days, activities or commitments or routines we’re sort of tethered to, whether it’s letting out the dogs or folding laundry or driving to work or running errands or sitting on the phone. We can take a minute and rub down our dogs and remind ourselves of their unconditional love and devotion. We can inhale the smell of clean clothes and note that the stains really did come out and look forward to fresh sheets tonight. We can sing to our favorite songs when we’re out and about. We can use that time waiting for the insurance lady to write that email or make a list or send a love note or to just enjoy listening to the old song from the 80s they’ve got playing in the background.
Who’s to say our everyday chores--our ordinary life--have to be drudgery? That word—that thought—immediately deflates us and zaps our energy. It’s our thoughts—not our circumstances (which we can rarely change anyway)—that drive our moods, so I guess I just want to be a little more cognizant of my thoughts, to turn them around, to be present and mindful about what I’m doing and to deliberately choose joy.
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