Ryanne Molinari

Do you ever have days when getting through your regular routine feels like a triumph of the human spirit? When leaving the office or studio makes you want to scream like Tim Robbins at the end of The Shawshank Redemption?

I am at the end of a busy season filled with choir concerts, church services, and course preparation—not to mention all the usual life stuff that has to get done in-between. (Laundry stops for no woman.) While I like staying busy, I admit that I am worn out.

But something I have been reminded of throughout this season is that, so often, feeling follows action. Yes, I need to enjoy slower seasons and rest well. At the same time, there are certain things that must be done, no matter how I am feeling. Writing this blog post, for example, is an act of discipline—not inspiration. And yet, with each word I type, my enjoyment returns.

We expect joy to be spontaneous and serendipitous—something that strikes without warning and cannot be generated. Something separate from mundane work. But more often, I find that joy comes through the steadiness of habit rather than the suddenness of chance. I have to ease my way into it through diligence and regularity. I rarely sit down to practice at the Muse’s behest. I usually have to work for an hour before I really get into the music. The first two miles of any run are not usually pleasant, but the final four—when I find my stride—are a delight. I do not write poetry due to bursts of brilliance but through the slow process of pondering, testing, and revising.

As I pondered the somewhat pedantic nature of my joy, I wrote the following sonnet. Even choosing to write about joy in the form of a sonnet says something about how I experience joy; through intentional structure and steady rhythms. Without further ado, then, here is a little poem for when you need to be reminded that delight often arises through diligence, and that work is often a safeguard for joy.

Finding Joy: A Sonnet

I find her in the swift and sudden swap
Of exertion’s grimace for endorphin’s grin,
When ragged exhalations do not stop
But invite glad exaltation to join in.
I find her when the structure yields the song
And rigid-metered feet begin to dance,
When scales smoothed out through hours lone and long
Flow with the seeming seamlessness of chance.

Cheap ease cannot enduring cheer beget,
Nor hapless tries bring happiness true birth.
I found her where my love and labor met,
Where my sweatiest work produced the sweetest mirth.
So run, revise, rehearse, relate, rejoice;
Delight through diligence is given voice.

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