As a child, joy came naturally to me. I was most happy being in the company of others and I never got tired of playing. I liked to imagine that my friends were part of my family, and after long play dates I would often plead to sleep over, or at least stay for dinner. Although my parents have always been proud of my ability to get along with others, they have tried to encourage me to be more independent and learn to enjoy my time alone.
When I got a little older and became more aware of social pressures, I began to realize that joy cannot be taken for granted. At school, the way you dressed or acted mattered if you wanted to fit in. Advertisements and images of stylish people suggested that happiness could be bought, or put on. Was joy a new phone with unlimited texting? Was joy another “friend” on Facebook? It seemed as if joy was determined by what our culture offered us. Such ideas seem entirely frivolous to me now as I consider the meaning of true joy.
Recently I have begun to learn what is truly important to me. I love art. This past summer I began to create work on my own, independent from anyone’s instruction. I would sit for hours, drawing portraits that intrigued me. I was amazed by how the detail of individual features revealed character. The marks of my pencil would gradually develop into an eye that looked back at me or an ear that could listen to my stories. It was beautiful, almost as if I were making new friends. Of course there would be occasional arguments, leaving behind an unintended smudge or a splatter of undesirable color. But in the end the mistakes made these people less perfect and more real, adding uniqueness to their character, and on occasion even enhancing our relationship.
This is not to say that I find true joy every time I draw. Making art, like learning to experience joy, is serious. Seneca once wrote: “Make this your business: learn how to feel joy . . . true joy, believe me, is a serious thing.” What I understand Seneca to mean is that experiencing joy is not a simple matter. It takes time and effort to create, or discover, something meaningful to oneself and unlike our consumer culture, there is no easy stamp of “satisfaction guaranteed.” I realize that true joy is not about our surface lives, but rather something you must actively pursue within yourself. Ultimately, discovering true joy involves a process of self-reflection and deep consideration of one’s values. For me, that discovery has included making art, which has helped me become more observant of the world, and inspired me to learn more about the lives of others. Seneca offers great insight, and in reflecting upon what he wrote, I have come to a better understanding of who I am and what brings me meaningful, lasting joy.
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