A haiku:
Drip drip drip all day
Always dancing with the pole
Poison in my veins

The countdown is on! I finish up IV antibiotics tomorrow, and right now it feels like I’ve never wanted something so badly in my life. Mainly I’m eager to get back to my normal sleep schedule—and ditch these side effects that make me feel like I’m in a perpetual fog. 

Yesterday morning I went to spin class, and a woman in front of me danced the entire time. She was get-ting it—pedaling while doing whatever arm movements struck her. I smiled every time I looked at her (and, honestly, I couldn’t stop because I admired her). She was breaking it down without any concern about what the rest of us were doing. I wanted to channel her ability to do her own thing.

I recently listened to an episode of the Before We Go podcast with Patton Oswalt as the guest. He lost his wife suddenly almost a decade ago. Oswalt said this about joy while grieving: “A lot of times you’ll run from it; you should run towards it.” 

I love the idea of running toward joy. After Ramón died, I remember feeling like even hints of joy meant I wasn’t widowing correctly—even though joy was what I needed most.

It’s important that we run toward joy in all aspects of our lives. Sometimes, when the world seems too heavy, joy can almost feel like betrayal—like, how dare I have fun when X, Y, and Z are happening? But if we don’t run (or even casually stroll) in joy’s direction, how can we expect anything to change? And as evidenced yesterday, we can even pedal toward joy. 

The porch swing felt like joy to me yesterday. The wind chimes were working overtime, and I drank it all in, basking in the beauty of the moment. 

Here’s to staying on the path to joy! And soon I won’t be lugging this pole with me on the journey.