As I am starting to wrap up a stretch of extra-intense work (might fully catch my breath a week from tomorrow? fingers crossed!), it felt great to get over to the women's basketball game this evening and watch them notch another win. They're 6-10 now, but are on a little hot streak. Just fun, fun, fun to see them win.
This post's title, the titular opening words of a Wordsworth poem, came into my head today when I was thinking about all of this: "Surprised by joy..."
What I remember about studying this poem for the first time is how it shifts even in that first line--there's such drama in it. It opens not in the moment of joy, but in the moment after, when the speaker realizes he is surprised by it. And then it shifts to grief.
I was surprised by joy--and yes, right there in the surprise, in fact, pushing it into being was (is) grief. But the grief didn't swallow the joy.
There is something else there, though, ridiing alongside joy and surprise...a fear that the rug will be pulled out again. Can't let that fear take over, though.
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