Last December, as the glad tidings of the holidays made \u201cjoy\u201d a much-mentioned word, a copy of Steven Petrow\u2019s \u201cThe Joy You Make\u201d arrived in the mail and made its way to my ever-teetering pile of unread books, where it sat for months.<\/p>\n
Only now, in the high heat of another Louisiana summer, have I cracked the spine of Petrow\u2019s latest book, but there\u2019s really been no harm in my delay. The point of his project is that joy isn\u2019t just something to warm your hands around at Christmas or other special occasions.<\/p>\n
At its best, of course, joy is a daily discipline.<\/p>\n
Petrow stumbled into his subject during the pandemic, when he wrote a Washington Post essay on finding joy in tough times. He unpacks the topic more fully in \u201cThe Joy You Make,\u201d which makes the case that joy, though commonly viewed as an exercise in smiling radiance, isn\u2019t quite the same thing as happiness.<\/p>\n
Joy is more complicated, as Petrow points out, and it can even coincide with sad events like helping a loved one through serious illness. Although a single definition of joy is elusive, all joy seems to point outward, connecting us with something beyond ourselves.<\/p>\n
Petrow has found joy in cooking, writing and even volunteering at a local cancer ward. The author offers a couple of chapters on reading as a source of joy, too.<\/p>\n
Having your head in a book might seem to work against the ideal of joy as a thing with an open face. But reading, though often undertaken in solitude, isn\u2019t really about isolation. A great book gives us meaning by joining us with some other mind, some other soul, some other experience that changes us, however imperceptibly, as we turn each page.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019d found my place, the beginnings of community, and a sense of belonging,\u201d Petrow writes of his early life in books. \u201cFor me, that has proven to be the ultimate joy of reading.\u201d<\/p>\n
I\u2019ve been thinking about all of this as I enjoy another summer reading season in my favorite living room chair. There\u2019s a magnifying glass near my elbow in case I want to give any pictures I come across a closer look. I also keep a set of binoculars handy to inspect the birds that arrive by the window.<\/p>\n
I like having these things around because they enlarge how I see my life. When a book is really good, it enlarges my vision, too.<\/p>\n
I\u2019ve just finished \u201cThe Bookshop,\u201d a Penelope Fitzgerald novel about a little woman, Florence Green, who decides to open a bookstore in a small English town. She seems a bit wispy to tackle such a job, but in Fitzgerald\u2019s story, we come to see how strong and deep Florence is on the inside.<\/p>\n
In reading about her, I came to feel stronger and deeper, too. I guess I\u2019m describing joy, the abiding gift of any good book.<\/p>\n