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Feeling the soft friction of my blood against the walls of my vessels, pumping to my heart and rushing into my body from my heart. I guess in this tenderness lives joy as a seedling ready to pop up in every moment. Often times, getting what we want robs us of our joy. Simple desires are fulfilled and then new ones are created, escalating the cycle of wanting MORE.
I live in a small apartment on modest means but I love collecting so I made a rule; have nothing in my home that doesn't have a story. I look around me as I type this and see the empty pack of smokes members of Pussy Riot autographed for me because I 2nd hand designer bags had nothing else for them to sign. I see my dead father's legal seal, half a dear pelvic bone which a friend made the other half into a gown. My things give me joy not because of any monetary value but because of the stories and memories they hold. Encounter where masks are down, imperfection is revealed and exchanged.

I find joy in the patience it takes waiting for a reply from an old and dear friend, our relation deepened and renewed after twenty or so years.It has been a long and hard road to find this patience, to find such joy. I have written in from time to time over the past two or so years and it has helped me immeasurably to know you have read and listened to me, along with so many others that write in. Your responses rarely disappoint.Two years ago I lost my partner, my dog, the house I lived in. I moved into a shared flat, and onto social security. I would wake up in the middle of the night and for the first time know what feeling true dread meant.
I find/take/collect joy in the tiny huge explosions of smiles. Little miracles of humanness that pull us all in. In all the mad bastards you collect through life. I recently started walking to de stress.

It includes choosing to participate in communal activities that are life giving. It includes celebrating other people’s joy. Joy is so much richer when shared with another or others.Yes, joy often can seem elusive and difficult to feel. I am pretty sure though that joy, like love, is all around us, even when we don’t feel it or are not being attentive to it. Thus, even in the darkest times I make the effort to seek joy. Even if sometimes it is a struggle.
After being a mom, wanting to spend as much time as possible with my kids, meaning having them not spend 8 to 10 hours on a school, plus work and day to day stuff (shopping for groceries etc), I miss the "adult" challenging difficult themed conversations. You present us a raw perspective but always with a positive looking forward spin  that gives me hope for a better future for my kids, as I struggle with the way things are turning. Anyway, I do get a lot of joy from knowing I have the opportunity of reading a new Red Hand Files.
In the moments when I do what I feel I am designed to do - give - I feel more joy than any amount of self service or personal ambition could possibly offer me. By offering my skills, time, love and attention to those who are in need I feel most connected to a sense of purpose and genuine joy in this life. It was my grandmother's name, a fiery redhead from East Texas who picked cotton on her family farm  before moving to the big city of Dallas. As a "Rosie" she was known as "the fastest riveter in the plant," and would draw crowds and press to see her work the drill on those P-51 "Red Tails" that the Tuskegee Airmen would eventually pilot.

Now, in my very early 50s, Joy has found me again, but quietly this time. It greets me wordlessly in the changing light of April and May, the turning of the leaves in September and October, and catches me by surprise around corners, when the sky opens, and in the silence of my own company. I have over the year built up a template of what joy is as a state of mind, not all that consciously I must say, it just happened as I walked hand in hand with gratitude. So now I have more than a virtual room full of joy, and I can step into it any time I would want to, or remember .And that's the thing, remembering it .
There are times this really can get me deep down, why... Although I know I'm privileged and trying to do lots and lots... It just never seems enough, though I know I will not be able to solve this...

And to zoom out I have to zoom in. So I look around the room I'm in and I don't try to find joy. Instead I try to pick something I see and just think about it.For some reason a lot of the time I think about doors. I guess because most rooms have doors. So I look at the object, say the  door. And I think, fuck, doors are pretty cool.
I’m not sure when i felt joy again after all of this. I  remember reading that you & Suzi CHOSE happiness after your son died. That it was a metaphorical middle finger to the world, to your circumstance- to not wallow as a sad figure for forever.

They are, we are so vulnerable an in order to experience joy I must make peace with this truth.What brings me joy? There is 3-year-old who fills my top pocket with dinosaurs and feeds them cheese. When something makes me feel completely myself and simultaneously at one with the universe, then I feel joy. I felt it at the total solar eclipse in April and immediately began researching the times and locations of future eclipses. Unfortunately, it quickly became obvious that I cannot afford to chase the moon's shadow. I'm not so sure I agree with you, Nick, that joy is something you have to seek out.
I hadn't ridden a bicycle for ten years. For some reason, I had begun to fear that I’ll lose my balance. I had often dreamed that I would dare. I live near a big forest with sand roads.
Now that, my red-handed friend, blew me away. I don't know how or why I reacted as I did to this piece of his music, but I did, his mood and struggles soaring across the centuries and I was there to receive it. So there you go, music is my joy. I buried my child in between the notes of a Bach partita because she gave me the same transcendent joy. Sometimes, when deconstructing the parts of myself that I perceive as bad, it can feel like joy is being replaced by guilt or shame.