“Joy” | Reflection by Lucile Bruce

Stand still and feel the rough rock beneath your feet and prepare. You're going to jump. Turn your back on suffering, let go of the past. Feel the great sun warm your strong, capable shoulders. Your beloved body under exuberant clouds is a mighty creation and it will accomplish this jump. From the hot rounded rock that anchors you to the cold, churning water that will not be your death. Get ready. The wind strokes your jumbled human skin. Now breathe: your lungs fill with air—thankfully, for you will need air. From the bottom of your feet to the top of your head, the air surges, dancing to a song. Take it in, as much as you can gather. Settle your fears like sediment in the basin of a muddy river until all that’s left is clear, beautiful you. Know that Sorrow, your friend, is not here. Sorrow's in the next town over today, safely ensconced in her book with her warm blanket and cup of coffee. She, your closest associate, will be there later when you need her to shed a different light on things. But this day, this time, belongs to you Joy and you shout out letting go the idea that things should be other than they are. You stretch—laugh—leap—and liberated you are, are, are, you are alive jumping and your beloved life and you are all that matter today and your god is all air, wind, water, clouds, sun and love and your momentous life-heart beats. You are god’s bliss and exultation and the splash you make reaches god’s heaven-ears and there is only this moment, this sound, this water, this earth, this love, this body, this joy, this you.