the ray

Today I read a segment that delighted me.

“She laughed. Grocery-store laughs are pretty much the best kind. Top ten, easy.” (Richard Morgan, NY Mag)

The “top ten, easy” is what got me. A delightful topper on a delightful train of thought. And I thought about all the ways that joy can come from good writing. I’ve been reading Maya Angelou’s “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.” Which, although not easy in its themes, has moments of absolute delight in them. Like anytime she writes about her brother, really. Or the vignette of the enthusiastic church-goer who knocks the preacher, quite literally, off the stand. You’re drawn into that world. I was once a kid in church who stifled her laughter behind closed palms, the dullness of adult lecture in the child’s world heightening the most ordinary of circumstances into hilarity. Angelou brought me back there, and while I didn’t break out in deep belly-laughs alone in my room, I did crack a smile and felt warm all over.

Words that delight, sentences that evoke joy, and the rare story that makes you laugh out loud. The two hours after I bought the last Harry Potter book, I smiled so hard my face hurt. I remember wondering WHY DOES MY FACE HURT? And realized it was because I’d been smiling the whole time. I was 10 years old at the time, and in high heaven.

So, here’s to a break from the usual angsty contents of my blog (why am I most compelled to write when I am unhappy? Alas). Turning instead, to the opposite end of loving words, and writing, and the intimacy and power of baring one’s soul – what a gift it is to talk about happiness. What a gift it is to share in moments like these. Just as powerful as words that make you cry, or reflect on the state of humankind, or whatever kind of thing that good, hard-hitting writing makes you feel, are the moments that make you crack a smile. Like the single ray of sunshine streaming just right through the window. I think I’m going to bask in it a little while.