Days of Inexplicable Joy
Unexpected adventures growing old.
In a few days, I will turn 73. I have been retired for four years. It is summer here in Oregon and the sun is shining after a long, wet winter. Many mornings this summer, I get up and go about my daily routine and find myself experiencing inexplicable joy. There is no reason for it. My days and the things I do with them are no different from six months or a year ago, but I didn’t feel joy then. For no reason, these days I do.
I never thought much about joy. My recent joyful days have shown me that, although I have had a rich life, there hasn’t been a lot of joy in it. I’ve had challenging, exciting, and deeply rewarding experiences. Some of them were wonderful, and I can bathe in memories of my triumphs as well as any old man, but I don’t remember much joy. At least, not the ungrounded and inexplicable joy I often feel today.
I remember the joys of accomplishment, a job well done, and of good luck, receiving the bounties that life drops upon us. I have been joyful when things went my way — after passing the bar exam, after marrying a woman I loved, or divorcing a woman I didn’t. But those joys had causes. They were the aftereffects of good fortune. The joy I have been experiencing lately is unmoored from any windfall or achievement. It arises from nothing and signifies nothing. I didn’t ask…
