Last night I found my joy.

I had always thought of joy more as a state of being. I had never really thought of it as something that could be lost or taken away until Lucinda Williams' song "Joy" jabbed me in the ribs with the realization that joy can be stolen if I allow it.

My joy has been missing for a while, only reappearing fleetingly, until last night when I was able to see it clearly and allow it to pull me in close and give me a big, warm bear hug.

I was returning from a whirlwind one-day trip to Florida and I was exhausted. As we landed in Rochester, it began to snow. My first reaction was annoyance. "I can't believe it's snowing. It's almost April. It was 60 degrees out just the other day. What a bummer to come back from 80-degree sunny weather to this mess." I scurried from the plane, through the snow to the terminal, barely looking up from the ground in front of me.

Then, as I drove out of the parking ramp and opened my window to pay, the wind blasted me in the face and funneled snow into my car. Nickel-sized flakes stuck to the dash, my coat and my face. And suddenly my eyes were opened. I smiled. I looked around and saw the sticky white snow flying everywhere. I closed my eyes for a second and felt it hit my face. The beauty of the scene made my heart feel warm inside my chest.

I took joy in the snow. And it felt wonderful. As I drove home and the snow blew into my windshield, I felt at peace. And, as if I was in a movie, the radio provided the perfect soundtrack as it began to play "Do You Realize??" by the Flaming Lips.

Do you realize that everyone you know someday will die?
And instead of saying all of your goodbyes
Let them know you realize that life goes fast
It's hard to make the good things last
You realize the sun don't go down
It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning 'round

Take joy in today.