A Flying Leap

When our daughter, Brynn, was a toddler, she had a penchant for searching out the highest point in the house. She would then set about scaling said object's heights. Once at the summit, she would fling her arms wide and leap. She did this without ever looking down, and without any hesitation. Although these leaps would sometimes result in minor injuries, she would return, undeterred to her practice of scaling and soaring.

I often wondered what possessed her to do this. She lacked the communication skills to explain her actions - and she would probably have declined to comment anyway. It could have been the novel perspective of a new vantage point that impelled her. Or the brief thrill of being airborne. But I like to believe that they were leaps born of pure joy. That the joie de vivre (of which she had plenty) within her small body became too great to contain and she had to find a way to appropriately express her delight.

Hers was a simple joy. She delighted in life's small pleasures. She did not need expensive toys or extravagant experiences to set her merriment in motion. She simply allowed the simple pleasures of daily life to well up into gladsomeness.

I sometimes reflect back on her brief flights of fancy and wish for the same cheer and courage to well up within me. Oh, for the simple heart of a child.

Leap, my young one. Continue to leap - across mountaintops and through valleys. Search for the high places, and scale their heights. And find within you, always, in the still, small place, your stream of life and source of joy.