🌟 Dear Joy
A journey through memories, possibilities, and the ever-present spark
Aloha fellow learn-it-all 👋
Greetings from Honolulu :)
Life’s been rocky lately. Not figuratively, but physically as in I surfed straight into reef at Tonggs last week that jabbed at my left elbow. Two days later, I fell down onto the black pavement on a hill in Manoa valley while clipped into my road bike. I’m grateful that bruises and cuts heal. 🙏
Before we jump in, this letter is a sneak peak into one of the letters I will be sharing my collection of my favorite twenty eight letters that I am sharing in my book: Letters to My Life. I invite you to learn more about the project here and to preorder the e-book:
Now, let’s dive into letter 223 from a learn-it-all. Enjoy!
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❓Question to think about
What would I like to tell Joy?
🖊️Writing
April 28, 2024
Dear Joy,
On Sunday afternoons, I remember hearing you. The clinking chain of the garage door lifting up, and the loud blasting hum of the air compressor turning on—the sound of joy. Full of excitement that Dad’s up from his post-brunch afternoon snooze, I’d meet him outside with Steph.
Dad would have me hold the little nozzle caps, and he’d stand over the bikes with their kickstands to inflate the tires for the bikes. Mom would slip off her rubber gloves for a much-needed break from the pink impatiens. We’d have the monkey seat attached to the back of Dad’s bike and screw in the dino back one-wheel attachment onto Mom’s bike. Steph, Mitch, Mom, Dad, and I would be off. We’d go around the neighborhood on Windmill Pointe Drive or Jefferson Ave.
The whole clan together. We’d bike by the park, his office in the Village, and the house on Audubon where Dad grew up—waving left and right at people who have known Mom and Dad since they were my age. If we had enough energy, we’d bike by his high school, which would someday be where I walk the halls to be voted “most memorable.” The place where Mr. Briske taught me Freshman Honors World History teacher decades after he taught my mom the same subject. Maybe we’d even go to a couple of friend’s houses for an impromptu visit. If only the dogs greeted us, Dad would take a business card out of his wallet, add a note to the back, and slip it into the crack of the door, so they knew we thought of them. If people were home, my family bike ride would turn into a group play date, and we’d cheer them on doing their little home projects. I’d whizz down the Richner’s zip line or go for a swing on the Abar’s swing set. For a snackie, we’d always swing by Omi’s for Kaukauna cheese and crackers or peppermint ice cream. No matter the season of the year, she always had both in her fridge. That was the best.
It didn’t matter where we were going because we were together. Absolute Joy.
Reflecting on those joyful moments from my childhood, I now find similar sources of joy in my present life. But something has shifted, Joy. Where once you were rooted in the comfort of memories, you've now evolved into something more expansive—an anticipation of what’s to come. Joy, you’ve grown from remembering to reveling in the joy of possibility, and in doing so, you’ve become a bridge between my past and my future.
Sunday mornings still hold that same promise, and I remind myself that it’s not so much about the destination or outcome of a process but finding fulfillment in the people I love and the potential that each moment holds. I still feel that spark of excitement, that same joy I felt as a kiddo on those family bike rides, and now it’s accompanied by a sense of wonder for what could be. Joy, you are boundless and easy to access, not a limited resource.
In Honolulu, I feel endless possibilities for fun adventures on a planless day, open to doing whatever would fill my cup most with the people I love. First, I swing the front door open and watch the sunrise over Diamond Head for the day after waking to the sound of the cooing spotted doves making their mating calls. Next, I enjoy waking my body up with a salutation stroll with a banana in hand, greeting neighbors while frequenting the community garden.
What will it be? Friends over for brunch? Staying in town and walking to the swell to check it out for surfing? Driving to the north shore for a swim? Journaling after walking to ARS cafe for banana bread? Baking my own banana bread? Taking a nap at the pool? Going for a hike in the mountains? The world is my oyster. I love having a full menu of ideas to play that can create joy.
Joy, you are like the sky blue crayon in the Crayola crayon box—my favorite shade of color. As a kid, I used you for the upper half of all my drawings. I wanted to be an artist; blue was a non-negotiable in all my pieces. The colors of the tulips always vary—radical red, jazzberry jam, tickle me pink, blue violet—but the sky has always been the same. You’re my favorite crayon in the realm of emotional fluidity.
This evolution, Joy, shows me that you’re not confined to one moment or one feeling. You are both the warmth of a cherished memory and the excitement of untapped possibility. You bridge the past and the future, creating a continuum of joy that flows through my life. You don’t require fame or fortune. You are simple and have an insatiable thirst to be present in my life, and I welcome you here.
When shared, you multiply. For that, I am grateful.
You're not just a fleeting feeling or a moment in time but a constant presence that evolves with me. From the cherished memories of childhood bike rides to the perennial possibilities of my days in Honolulu, you’ve shown me that joy is both a reflection of where I’ve been and an anticipation of where I’m going. You are the thread that connects my past, present, and future, reminding me that you are always within reach, ready to be experienced in new and meaningful ways. Thank you for being the vibrant blue in my life’s crayon box, the color that fills my world with light, love, and laughter.
I look forward to all the ways you’ll continue to show up, surprising me, comforting me, and guiding me forward. Thank you for being in my life.
With hugs,
Joyous Jen
🎧Listening
“Older” by Ben Platt
When you are younger
You'll wish you're older
Then when you're older
You'll wish for time to turn around
Don't let your wonder turn into closure
When you get older
When you get olderHave I killed my thoughts right before their prime?
Have I bit my tongue one too many times?
Have I said it all the way I really meant to?
If I wait 'til my tomorrow comes
Is the waiting all I've ever done?
And will I get to
🔍Words to define
Joy: (n.) a feeling of great pleasure and happiness
Three related words:
Mudita: Sanskrit term meaning “joy” or pleasure. The pleasure that can be obtained from seeing other people do well.
Freudenfreude: the bliss we feel when someone else succeeds, even if it doesn’t involve us. (though this word look inspired by the German word for “joy” it is not according to this fella)
Compersion: Wholehearted participation in the happiness of others. It is the sympathetic joy felt for somebody else, even when their positive experience does not involve or benefit us directly. Compersion can be thought of as the opposite of jealousy and possessiveness.
🌟Quote to inspire
"Don’t postpone joy until you have learned all of your lessons. Joy is your lesson." — Alan Cohen
📸Photos of the Week
I played a lot over the weekend. Two new experiences are checked off my imaginary list:
I swam 3000 yards in an hour to that island on the left called Mokulua Nui Island. It was closed off because a baby monk seal made it’s home with its momma. I’m grateful to Jesse for paddling out on his standup paddle board with us to patrol the sharky waters, so I didn’t need to tread water at the halfway point. For the swim, the visibility was spectacular. I felt like I was snorkeling the whole time. I would definitely do this again. A glistening swim.
The rim of the Ka’au Crater in the back of Palolo Valley was the next adventure. It took about five hours to hike the six miles with a vertical incline of 2,600 feet. I’m counting this as training for the ultra race. I’ll be pacing my brother in Michigan in a few weeks. My body collapsed after this hike. I like endurance sports because I like the taste of water when thirsty. I am extra grateful for electrolytes.
🙏Shoutouts
To
for his direction in my relationship with JoyTo
for teaching me about emotional fluidity in his Nervous System Mastery course this past Spring. He shared this crayon box metaphor that deeply resoanted with me. 💙
I appreciate you reading this!
If ideas resonated, I’d love you to press the heart button, leave a comment, reply to this email, or reach me at vermetjl@gmail.com.
Keep on learning 😁
Mahalo 🌺
Jen
PS - in case you missed the news up top, my book is open to preorder!
PPS - if you’d liked reading my photos of the week, you’d also enjoy reading and seeing all my other photos in last week’s letter 🌊 Riding the Waves of July
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