Today, our Spiritual Journey blogging group is writing about Joy, Finding Joy. I am gathering the posts in the Link button below this post.
I find joy on my morning walks. Over the years I have joined different gyms. I’d wake up in the dark, pull on some tights or other fashionable exercise wear, and go to a class or climb on the treadmill or rotate among the machines when Curves was around. Last year I gave up all memberships and just started walking. During the school year, I try to get out by 6 AM. But now that it’s summer, and the days are getting warmer, and I don’t have to be anywhere, I’m out at 7 AM. Charlie on the leash. I carry my phone in a pouch that fits over my pants and stays in place with a magnetic grip. Sometimes I talk to my Voxer pals. Sometimes I listen to a podcast, and sometimes I run into a neighbor to chat with or who will join me.
These walks have become my Joy.
I find joy in the songs of birds.
I find joy in watching Charlie explore.
I find joy in waving to neighbors.
I find joy in the flowers, the trees, and the bayou beyond.
Another source of joy for me is poetry. For this poem, I turned to one of my favorite collections, The Woman in this Poem. Georgia Heard signed my copy with these words, “For the joy of poetry–and life!”
Happiness
by Jane Kenyon
There’s just no accounting for happiness,
or the way it turns up like a prodigal
who comes back to the dust at your feet
having squandered a fortune far away.And how can you not forgive?You make a feast in honor of whatwas lost, and take from its place the finestgarment, which you saved for an occasionyou could not imagine, and you weep night and dayto know that you were not abandoned,that happiness saved its most extreme formfor you alone.
No, happiness is the uncle you neverknew about, who flies a single-engine planeonto the grassy landing strip, hitchhikesinto town, and inquires at every dooruntil he finds you asleep midafternoonas you so often are during the unmercifulhours of your despair.
It comes to the monk in his cell.It comes to the woman sweeping the streetwith a birch broom, to the childwhose mother has passed out from drink.It comes to the lover, to the dog chewinga sock, to the pusher, to the basketmaker,and to the clerk stacking cans of carrotsin the night.It even comes to the boulderin the perpetual shade of pine barrens,to rain falling on the open sea,to the wineglass, weary of holding wine.
From The Woman in this Poem Selected and Introduced by Georgia Heard
Reflections on the Teche 
Such a beautiful poem, Margaret. I really love that you gave up all your memberships for walks. I have been a gym member a few times over the years, long ago, but I really hate gyms. I’ll always choose trees and birds and neighbors over machines. Enjoy every moment on those walks.
Margaret, thank you for choosing this topic for our SJ1stT posts. Since joy is my one word, I try to find it wherever I am. Tonight, it is in full view in your blog. The visuals and poem bring a sense of peace as the night is closing. BTW: I chose to have your last photo joyfully grace my spring gallery. Thanks.
Dear Margaret, I am also an early morning walker (with dog!). I love my walks. I used to use them as in-my-head writing time, but these days I am working on being present to all that is around me, to the experience of my feet touching the ground. It makes the walking more like meditation, or prayer. Someday let’s walk together! xo
Hi Margaret. Thanks for hosting! Yes, your post resonated with me on many levels, for I too walk every morning, or afternoon, if the morning has other demands (plus I don’t have a dog who demands punctuality). Now that my husband isn’t walking with me because of his sore hip, I mix it up…where shall I go today?… how will I get there?… what’s my photography prompt and where will I find that? Love your photos!
I have similar joys enjoyed your blog
Margaret:
Thank you for your lovely post. I also find joy in walking, watching for birds, looking at blooms, contemplating clouds, finding serenity in the river. Recently I was close enough to a blue heron to see his scowl and the anger… or was it hunger?… in his eye. But then the funny feather at the back of his head reminded me of Elvis, and I had to smile.
There is so much in God’s good world that brings joy, and yet it is so easy to feel discontent. Here is my list of joys this week:
Family, including four beautiful grandchildren
Good conversations
Challenge of music and poetry
Cool nights
Gentle rains
Bird songs
A broken robin’s egg
Finding the perfect gift
Rest
Laughter
Healing
Chocolate…. always chocolate.
Be well.
Blessings,
Karen
Linking up a day late, but I’m here now. Margaret, I love the way your morning walks bring joy to you. The butterfly pic is exquisite! And the Jane Kenyon poem is a favorite. Happy Friday!
I had thought I would start walking to keep up the strength in my legs for the motorcycle, but this spring has been rain, and rain and mostly rain. I guess I’ll have to start walking in the rain and enjoying it! There’s joy in rain, right?
Thanks for sharing your joys and images…and reminding me of what I was going to do…