Moments of Joy

It was an “easy run,” the kind where I run as slow as necessary to keep my heartrate down. I ignored the pain that started gradually in my right foot midway through the run. It was only later that evening that the pain became sharp and demanded my attention. Over the next few days, I agonized about whether or how to keep training for the race I’d sign up for at the end of June. I’m not a competitive runner and did not want to risk a more serious injury, so I decided to defer my entry for next year.

Instead, I focused on exercise that would spare my feet while I recovered: swimming.  Aside from one summer of swimming lessons as a kid, I’ve never swam regularly. In fact, I’m a pretty poor swimmer. My first time in the pool in years, I flailed about and swallowed what felt like a gallon of water. At my next attempt, I’m pretty sure I startled the person in the lane next to me with my dramatic gasps for air.  On round three, I at least had an idea of how to breathe between arm strokes, but even today (after perhaps five swims), I have burning nostrils from pool water due to poor breath control.

If I’m so bad at this, why do I keep coming back? Surprisingly, I get glimpses of joy while I swim. When I’m not overthinking when, how and where to breath, or fumbling with my goggles, or worrying other swimmers, I notice how nice the water feels on my body and how peaceful I feel as I glide through it. To get to that experience, I simply have to put up with the bad stuff. So, I hope this gives someone permission to be bad at something and to keep doing it. Not for the bragging rights (I’ll never win any race on land or in water), but for the glimpses of joy.

Creator, thank you for the moments of joy in this world. May we accept the pain we feel as we also celebrate those moments of joy.

Elizabeth is a Peace member living in Chicago. She finds joy in her pets, loved ones, and of course, being bad at swimming.