PHOTO:Mary van Balen “There was the work hard, play hard Eden of childhood truths and treats. Run out in the rain, my Czech grandmother would say urgently, run quick! I flew out the back door, naked, screeching with demented joy, to stand under the drainpipe, rainwater sluicing down my tadpole body.”
…………………………….from “The Florist’s Daughter: A Memoir” by Patricia Hampl
Sometimes, in the midst of news of wars, poverty, illness, and hateful rhetoric, something comes along that reminds us of the human capacity for joy, sheer joy. Often simple, it arrives unheralded, breaking into the quotidian of life or the darkness of suffering or despair.
On Saturday I attended a pool party given by a counselor friend who includes a large number of transsexuals in her practice. I had never ventured into the pool at these annual gatherings, but did last week. My swim suit fit a bit tighter that I remembered, but, oh well. Pride aside, I caught my breath as I waded deeper into the water. Laughter filled the evening as people executed dives, some better than others, tried silly stunts, and slipped under the water as they tried in vain to keep a ball in the air. Nothing amazing. Just fun. Fun, food, and conversation shared by those touched by challenges of transsexuality. I stayed late, but was not the last to leave by far. Who wants to let go of such moments?
No. We open wide and suck them in, gulping down the sweet delight.
Sometimes joy comes with a joke, or a dry one-liner during a game of euchre. My dad was good at that. At work, I hear a baby cry as its parents or grandparents try do to a little shopping. But once in a while, a baby or child gets the giggles and her laughter floats through the store. It is contagious. Soon everyone is smiling, not knowing what is funny but enjoying the moment anyway. One of my coworkers has the greatest laugh. I might be hauling a load of bras and dresses out of a fitting room or trying to make a dent in the rails of undergarments waiting to be hung correctly and returned to the rack.
Then, Seretha’s laugh would fly over the Muzak and noise of business and make my day. I pictured her face, her broad smile, and was glad I belonged to the “sisterhood” as she called us.
Sometimes music is the source of exhilaration, like the Trans Siberian Orchestra concert I attended last year. I bought a couple of their CDs and played and replayed my favorites for weeks. Or, the first time I heard Luciano Pavarotti singNessum Dorma or the part ofRodolfo in Puccini’s La Boheme. I have no words.
Yesterday, a friend sent me a musical video that made me laugh and click the replay icon again and again. Watching talented musicians having so much fun tickled hope in me.
Have fun!
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