I know traditional wisdom is that you can't have a compelling story without conflict and resolution, but I've encountered the rare proof that this is not necessarily the case. The stories that break that glass ceiling and soar. This is one (two?) of them.
It is joy on top of joy piled with joy, smothered in joy. It is mindblowingly good, and I don't say that lightly. I think I've only used that word to describe something 3-4 times in my life, including this. The intensity of angst is common. When we are buried in our own sorrow, I think it can be easier to write it, and there is so much sorrow in life to draw from.
The intensity of joy seems to be incredibly rare. Perhaps because we don't feel compelled to capture and explore it when we are in the middle of it. Perhaps just because it is rare indeed. I've been trying to learn what it is and how to pursue it for a long time, and even so it is rare in my own life. Stories like this help me connect with it and remember what it feels like, and renew my dedication to pursuing it in my own life.
Thank you.
