A message crawled across my screen, it told me to “embrace my joy”. Like joy was something that is always there, tangible enough to wrap myself around. Ever present if only I was willing to grab it and pull it into my arms, like the warm body of another, a lover, a mother.

Am I guilty it I cannot quite reach it, it my hold is not enough to stop it slipping away, if my body is too busy keeping itself safe from sorrow to open wide and welcome it?

I want to know the joy that is supposed to be, but some days all there is is grief, and others anger, at all I see around me. Some days, I just feel empty and can find no energy to reach and grab a distant thing and make it part of me.

There are days of joy, of laughter and of love, and when those days do dawn, then I dance and linger in the light as long as possible! I know those days, I always have.

Perhaps the days that are grey make those days even brighter? Perhaps, but who really knows. Some days are just some days.