It is day one of Joy Spotting around here, and I mean to tell you that the very first thing I spotted this morning was not joyful. AT. ALL.
It was a wiry chin hair.
Take a moment and process THAT.
And not just ANY chin hair. Any ole chin hair would be bad enough. Who has time for chin hairs? When did chin hairs become a thing? Do I need to do a #write31days challenge on CHIN HAIR SPOTTING? Am I OLD ENOUGH FOR CHIN HAIRS? Last time I checked, my name is NOT Gladys! (No offense intended for those named Gladys. But one could conclude that women named Gladys have a high degree probability of sporting chin hairs).
That's right. This level of hysteria cannot ONLY be about chin hairs. No way. It can only be reserved for one thing and one thing only.
THE WIRY GRAY CHIN HAIR.
When I decided to do this challenge (uh, yesterday), I had notions of what official Joy Spotting might look like. These joy spottings were intended to be organic. Natural. IN THE MOMENT. And in my mind's eye, they would be spiritual and Pinterest-y and heady and moving and meaningful and would make me sound like a joy spotting GURU and would launch my future book deal and would secure me a "Super Soul Sunday" guest spot to discuss the profound life-changing effects of joy spotting. I mean, this guest appearance would be SOLIDLY in Oprah's calendar.
That's not how it happened today.
How it happened today was that I saw a white hair sprouting out of my chinny-chin chin. And it made me laugh. Hard and loud. By myself. And it felt great. It even rose to the level of. . . you guessed it. . . JOYFUL.
CHIN HAIRS as a source of joy. Who knew?
Post Script and Disclaimer for the Under 30 Crowd:
My darling, dear 11 year old son read this post aloud. He said, "If you are over 30, I would guess that this would be really funny. If you are under 30, you won't think it is funny AT ALL. In fact, the under 30 people will be like, 'What in the world are chin hairs?' "