Category: Writing

WRITING WITH JOY

We all know what it means to write. However, there are different styles of WRITING and there are different genres in which we can write. Writing is “doing”, it’s not an abstract concept. Many of us can write in a language or more than one language. Equally, we all have different standards of writing and therefore, it’s fortunate that the avenues in which we can express ourselves are as varied as there are people who read.

What is JOY? What does it mean to be joyful? In contrast to the word “writing”, “joy” or being “joyful”, are abstract concepts. They are different from being happy, although on the same spectrum of human emotions.

JOY means being in a state of exuberance about life, about what you do. It’s a mental attitude that manifests and shows itself in the way you live life, your general philosophy about living. It’s not something you switch on and off according to your mood or how things are going for you. That would be confusing joy with happiness. If happiness seems compromised because something isn’t going the way you want it, joy instantly converts that episode into a positive, a learning experience. You don’t linger on the negative of a situation, you turn it around to what you can find worthwhile about it. And you grow/evolve as a result.

Because if you don’t evolve, you dissolve.

So, when we WRITE WITH JOY, we don’t let anything, or anyone get in our way – we keep going because we love the process and smile at the result. What’s the old saying: “When the going gets tough, the tough get going.”

LES AMIS
The Friends

It was a beautiful day at the beach. The sun shone, the water was tepid, not hot nor cold, just right. Chestnut and Blackie were romping in the shallows where it was easy to run. No waves impeded the two friends from having fun. Waves always meant that you’d get a mouth full of water as you splashed.

The two friends were almost parallel, with Chestnut gripping a stick.

Blackie: ‘Hey, come on, Chestnut, be a good sport and share. It’s a long stick, we can each hold on to it.’

‘As soon as I get a grip on it, I’ll yank it off him,’ he thought.

Chestnut made no sign of acknowledgment and kept running just ahead of Blackie with the twig in his mouth protruding on the opposite side of the other dog.

Blackie: ‘Did you hear what I said?’ He was getting frustrated. It was becoming a matter of pride. ‘I’ve got to get that stick off him. It’ll make me look good,’ he alleged.

Chestnut with his wolf-like eyes remained unresponsive and just glanced unperturbed in front of him. The stick was still firmly intact in his mouth.

Suddenly, Chestnut increased his gait. Blackie as a result was now lagging behind him and his impatience got the better of him.

He took a leap to get parallel with his competitor who continued looking straight ahead. Now and then, Chestnut gave his playmate a sidelong glimpse but that was it, he didn’t feel threatened. However, he made sure the prize was firmly away from his pal.

‘What does he think he’s playing at?’ Blackie thought, ‘If I can get him to lose concentration even if only for a second, I can grab the branch from him.’

Blackie had a puffed-up opinion of his strategic abilities. In reality, he seemed to always come up short.

They both leaped along. Chestnut nonchalantly, but Blackie with an air of a desperado. He was formulating a plan.

Chestnut however, continued to merrily prance through the water, innocent of what could be impending doom for his control of the trophy. But then, that was Chestnut, not a conniving bone in his body. Life was a game to him, a fun time, he was neither competitive nor was he a pushover, however. Blackie on the other hand saw everything as a test of strength, of one-upmanship, it was all about winning.

‘Hey, you two, don’t go so far,’ called their owner, ‘Jessie can’t run so fast.’ Jessie was three-and-a-half years old and squealed with delight as she watched her darlings romping through the shallow surf near the shoreline. She ran as fast as she could but kept falling in the water as mini potholes developed with the wavelets. Her mother would get soaked helping her up and laughed with her.

‘Okay, this is war,’ thought Blackie. He went to grab Chestnut’s leg as he ran but he wasn’t prepared that his friend would change direction and alter the playing field.

Instead of the leg, Blackie swallowed a mouth-full of salty, frothy water, and coughed and spluttered in distress. Without a second glance, Chestnut ran back to his owners and gave the stick to Jessie’s outstretched hand.

‘Oh, that is so sweet of you,’ the mother said as she patted the dog’s head and became even more wet from the water his tail splashed up at her.

It was then they noticed Blackie still coughing.

Copying what her mother always says, Jessie called as she approached her other dog, ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Blackie, do you always have to be so dramatic and get yourself into trouble? Can’t you be like Chestnut and just play?’ she said with her hands on her hips.

Chestnut snuggled up to his buddy and said with a grin, ‘Yes, Blackie, can’t you be more like me and not be the Smartass you always are?’ and with that he jumped on him and they romped in the surf till both were exhausted and sputtering from the water they had swallowed.

Jessie and her mother laughed with delight at the tomfoolery.

‘Okay, you two, come on,’ called the mother, ‘time for lunch.’

They all headed for a grassy patch under some trees, and each had their favourite fare, meaty bones for the dogs and sandwiches for the humans.

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QUESTIONS FOR YOU

1. What do you think of Chestnut’s strategy to keep the stick?
2. What do you think about Blackie’s attitude ?
3. What do you think is the moral of the story?
4. Describe the relationship the people had with the animals.
5. What did you like in particular about the story?

Julia sat overlooking the city. This new city she had now committed her life to. Thoughts raced through her mind faster than the blood pumping through her body after the long jog ascending the steep hill. ‘This city is unsullied by my past mistakes, by past memories, by past hurts,’ she mused, ‘Let’s see how long I can keep it that way. It’s all up to me, no one else’s responsibility.’

Her only regret was that she had to leave her mother. They had a particularly strong bond. Both had been through similar, difficult personal situations. Her mother was the only one who never judged her, who always spoke kindly and told her that she had whatever strength she needed within her. ‘Always believe in yourself. Never listen to people who criticise you for the sake of hurting you; they don’t care about you.’

It was her mother’s words incessantly going through her head that were instrumental in her having the strength to physically leave her past behind even though, it wasn’t easy. Emotional ties are the hardest to sever, even if they betrayed you.

‘Always remember, my darling girl,’ her mother always added, ‘You must take opportunities life gives you, no matter how out of left field they appear. They can come in the strangest way.’

Remembering those words made Julia smile. ‘I’m always her “darling girl”.  I know she’s sad that I’ve left but, she knows, I had to go. She understands. She’s the only person I can rely on to always love me, to always listen to me, and who will always support me. I love her so much.’

As she looked out at the sunrise that awakened the city scape, and the sun that highlighted the river which glistened as a result of its power, she became aware of the dreamy silence surrounding her. She realised how at peace she felt and basked in that.

Suddenly, she sensed she was not alone. Her muscles tightened, she didn’t move but stayed en garde. It was still early in the morning and she hadn’t passed anyone on her trek up the hill. She waited and listened.

Without warning, she was bowled over by a 50 Kilogram, blond Labrador who started kissing her with his sloppy tongue.

‘Hey, Sam, stop. Sam, come back here, come here!’ a male voice called in vain. The dog’s enthusiasm was unable to be curtailed. He was so joyous.

Julia struggled to get on her feet and caught hold of the spotted lead hanging from the exuberant dog’s neck. It was all she could do to stay standing between the dog jumping and her laughing.

Finally, the dog owner was able to grab the dog’s lead off her and, simultaneously, with the other hand, hold Julia by the arm to stabilise her.

‘I’m so sorry, so sorry,’ he spluttered and puffed as he was out of breath. To the dog, he scolded, ‘Sam, naughty boy. Stop! Stay! Heel!’

At the commands, the dog immediately obeyed and looked lovingly up at his owner as he sat with his body vibrating with excitement and happiness.

The owner collected himself and said, ‘Hello, I’m Tom. I’ve no idea what came over him. He doesn’t usually do that. He’s normally so well-behaved but, as soon as he saw you, he bolted with glee.’

Still laughing and attempting to pat Sam who clearly could still not contain himself, she said, ‘Hi, I’m Julia. That’s okay. I was just surprised. I love dogs and Sam is a cutie.’

‘Aren’t you a frisky fellow this morning,’ she addressed the dog who seemed to be smiling from ear-to-ear, as though he was saying, ‘Aren’t I a clever boy!’

‘Hey, there’s a coffee shop just around the corner on this path. Can I buy you a coffee to make up for my dog knocking you over?’ Tom suggested.

Julia thought for a second and replied, ‘Sure, that would be nice.’

Then her mother’s words came to her, ‘You must take opportunities life brings you. They can come in the strangest way.’

A grin lit up on her face and there was a skip in her step, in time with Sam’s prancing.

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QUESTIONS FOR YOU

1. Describe Julia’s mood as she sits on the hill.
2. Describe Julia’s relationship with her mother.
3. What do you think is the moral of the story?
4. Describe Sam.
5. What was your favourite part of the story?

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