Don’t Hesitate to Summon Joy

 

I’m not sure when adults become aware of the fleetingness of time. Children have a different sense of it. Another year, especially on the day after Christmas, is unimaginable.

There will be no freshly delivered carloads of toys the day after tomorrow, but an infinite time spent in the holiday waiting room. The next thrill will stand still, arms folded and immovable.

As to yesterday’s new toy, my six-year-old grandson said, “I’m already used to it.” He told me this a week after he received a birthday gift I called to his attention. Smart fellow.

Middle-aged adults sense that they are on a fast-moving train, even if their arrival at the destination is uncertain. By our 50s, summoning joy is not as easy as buying more Legos or a superhero bobblehead. That doesn’t mean we have stopped searching for pleasure, but it does show that a child’s spontaneous delight is tough to recreate. Life has become a more serious business and the poop jokes don’t make an impression anymore.

Unless you are with a kiddie you happen to love.

I have found joy in books, movies, concerts, comedy, and theater, but your favored sources of happiness might differ. I talk to those I care about far and near with pleasure. But the kids are on to something in the element of surprise.

Mary Oliver’s poem “Don’t Hesitate” underlines the point. She describes the messiness of our lives, our sometimes absent wisdom and kindness, and our fear that the best years are past us, and that new joys will be as slippery as a soap bar in a shower.

Ah, but there is love, especially when it is unexpected. The poet wants to remind us not to give up, not to look back with regret, but to live in the present, to notice things and possibilities, and recognize the fullness possible in those possibilities. 

“Joy is not meant to be a crumb.”

Don’t hesitate, Oliver tells us. Take chances. Give in. Fearlessly.

As Oliver asked elsewhere, “Tell me, what is it that you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

Don’t Hesitate

by Mary Oliver

If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy,
don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty
of lives and whole towns destroyed or about
to be. We are not wise, and not very often
kind. And much can never be redeemed.
Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this
is its way of fighting back, that sometimes
something happens better than all the riches
or power in the world. It could be anything,
but very likely you notice it in the instant
when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the
case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid
of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.

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The painting reproduction is Joyousness by Paul Gauguin, 1892, sourced from Wikart.org/

Below it is a restored photograph by Zoltan Kluger and Adam Cuerden. It shows a Bukharan dance performed by members of the Rina Nikova ballet in the citadel of Jerusalem.

I Worried a Lot!

As teens, my buddy Steve and I shared a subscription to Mad magazine. It was an off-beat comic book that was ironic and funny—just the thing for two boys trying to figure out the world and their place in it.

The cover-boy hero (above) was a young man named Alfred E. Neuman. “What, me worry?” was his take on existence. The combination of his words and his face implied a serene idiocy, a kid who approached his life without a thought about the road ahead.

Steven and I are a bit older now—say, more than half a century. Though I can’t speak for him, we have changed a bit. We learned Alfred E. Neuman wasn’t an idiot after all. He realized that time is always short and one must make the best possible use without letting trepidation get in the way.

Beyond periods of productive consideration of his world and his life, Alfred might have also recognized that worry should be replaced by action. Wringing one’s hands, sweating in the face of a challenge, and losing sleep night after night are unproductive. Taking steps toward changing your circumstances offers at least a partial sense of control.

If he was troubled, I imagine Al chose to address what lay ahead, do his best, and not look back in regret. Despite this, I’m guessing no reader of Mad recognized him as a visionary and guide to how best to live.

We missed something.

Worry and the anxiety that follows from it are like glue. We walk along, step on the sticky spot, and get stuck. Distraction sometimes works to undo the spiraling cycle of dread; a favorite TV show might free us, shopping can provide the same service, but the sticky spot is still there, waiting patiently for us to return to its grip.

The Association for Behavioral and Cognitive Therapies (ABCT) offers this worksheet on mastering Worry. Small steps help reduce apprehension and anguish and make them manageable.

Robert Wu, a Chinese researcher based in Shanghai, wrote this for the April 19, 2025, New York Times: 

Recurring periods of hardship in Chinese history have embedded in the nation’s psyche a capacity for endurance and fortitude. The phrase for this is “chi ku” or “eat bitterness.”

I prefer something sweet. Take a breath and remember all you have already triumphed over and everything you feared that never occurred. Your survival proves you have much of the “right stuff.”

Some self-distraction is necessary to enhance one’s life. Then, take those baby steps that will help dissolve your worry and make a difference when possible.

I hope Helena Bonham Carter’s funny reading of Mary Oliver’s poem “I Worried a Lot” boosts you.

Consider it a momentary antidote for the strange time in which we live.