Joy.

The thing about joy – the best thing about joy – is that it comes unbidden.You can (if you are very very lucky) find yourself sipping a glass of Brunello and nibbling a chunk of local pecorino as the Tuscan sun glints off a field of sunflowers. And it is lovely. And it is wonderful. And you are happy to be there. But the moment doesn’t grab unexpectedly at your soul. It doesn’t shoot a bolt of electricity from the soles of your feet to the top of your head. Maybe it’s because you worked hard for that moment. You planned it, set it up, made it perfect.Alternately, you could pull yourself out of a warm bed at 5:20 on the chilliest morning of the year after a not-great night’s sleep. You could be thinking (not-entirely-positive thoughts) about the 6:15 Barre3 class you have to get to and the semi-grueling ballet class that follows and the long day of writing after that. And you could walk out the back door of the house into the cold, black morning and, with that first inhale, you could be -- you are! -- almost knocked silly by an overwhelming blast of joy. I mean full-body, electric-charged, all-encompassing bliss. Unasked for. Unplanned. Boom.Here’s why I decided to share that moment in today's post rather than write about what dogs can teach us about anti-aging (which is what I thought I’d be writing about when I woke up this morning): I want to acknowledge the power of the unexpected. I want to embrace the idea that you don’t always have to work so very hard to get to a good place. It may be that, occasionally, when we least expect it, without the gritting of teeth and the straining of muscles and the writing and checking off of lengthy to-do lists (yes, I am referring to myself here), good stuff happens. It may be that cultivating a life-long openness to that possibility, to the unexpected glory of surprise is as viable a path to a counterclockwise life as, say, kale salad and cross-fit.