Welcome to Day 1: Micro-dosing Joy
Write about a small moment of connection
It’s the first day of our two-week writing challenge.
For two weeks we will slow down and write about small slices or moments of life that bring us joy and share them with other midlife writers. Not necessarily life-changing, soul-altering experiences. Just micro-doses of joy.
Right now, at this time of year, at this moment in history, in this stage of life, we may have lots of reasons for wanting to write together to hunt for joy. We want to learn about what those are for you as well.
We are asking for 15 minutes a day, 5 days a week. So, in total, you’ll be writing 10 times with us.
Prompt 1.
On this first day, write for 15 minutes about a moment of connection you felt today or yesterday — with another person, an animal, a piece of music or art, something in the natural world.
Post your writing in the comments.
Connection with life and living things helps to give our lives meaning and purpose.
But what does "connection" mean?
I feel grateful for Pepper, my cat. The connection I have with her helps me feel needed. She looks at me with such anticipation and love in her eyes when it is time for food or brushing or when she just wants me to stop for a while and snuggle with her. And then she is on her way and we both feel refreshed and cared for by the connections we share.
My connection with Leon has grown. It is not a dependency, it is a joy. It is so comfortable. We relax together. We talk about so many things, we laugh, we sing, we make plans and share intimacy. We have settled into a nice routine of things we enjoy. Wednesday is date night. Saturday we go to our favorite ice cream parlor. Sunday evening we shoot pool. My connection with Leon gives me a sense of comfortable security I have never known.
I also feel connection with my listening audience. This is where I get my biggest sense of purpose and meaning. If I can help, inspire, reassure even one person each week, through my podcast or my writing, then I have done a good thing.
My eldest kid was home for the weekend and my youngest joined us for dinner last night for an early birthday celebration (my birthday is tomorrow). It doesn’t often work out that the four of us can be together like that and the entire evening was a moment of connection for all of us, as our original family of four.
But the moment of connection that comes to mind happened on Saturday night, when my husband’s parents came over for dinner. Ezra (my eldest) sat with their Bubbie (grandmother) on the sofa, looking through a photo album of my youngest as a baby. With every picture of her grandchildren as babies, Bubbie would ask, “who is that?” Her dementia has been progressing.
After dinner, when we were waiting for the kettle to boil for tea and dessert, she got up and went into the kitchen to whisper with my husband. When she came back in and sat down with her hands under the table, I heard the sound of paper being shuffled around and couldn’t figure out what she had in her hands. Then she got up, hobbled over to my seat, and opened the birthday card my father-in-law had put in my hands when they arrived. I had left it on the counter, planning to open it after dinner. She placed it on the table in front of me with a diamond necklace – a small diamond in the middle surrounded by a few growing circles encased in tiny diamonds – I remember her wearing often.
I was touched that she was gifting me a piece of jewelry that she loved, yet sad that she felt it was time to give away her prized possessions. She no longer had occasion to wear them, spending most of her time in their apartment, at her day program for people with dementia, or at doctors’ appointments. She’d been gifting jewelry to me and my kids and her other daughter-in-law and grandchildren over the last few years. There were tears in her eyes and joy on her face as we hugged. This is the same woman who when I started dating her son when we were in high school had asked her eldest son to talk some sense into him. I wasn’t Jewish and he shouldn’t be dating a non-Jewish girl. But in the last five years or so, she’s been telling everyone how “I’m the best thing that happened” to her son. I think she’s feeling remorse and trying to make up for her old memories of trying to break us up. She’s been nothing but kind since we were engaged (I converted) and I hope she remembers our connection goes well beyond those first few rocky years.