I am eternally grateful to have had the privilege of attending several people’s deaths.

If you’ve never been with a person who is dying, this statement may make you pause, or you may have a visceral reaction. How can watching someone die be a “privilege”? What is joyful about dying?

In a culture that doesn’t “do” death well, one that touts youth and vitality over age and wisdom, one that uses euphemisms for death and dying, one that treats grief as a medical diagnosis, we often find ourselves feeling very uncomfortable talking about end-of-life issues, and the thought of being with someone as they die may seem overwhelming.

But what I saw in those who were approaching death was beautiful.

I learned a great deal about life from those deaths, because even in their final days, slipping in and out of consciousness, each died as he or she had lived. My father maintained his sense of humor, smiling and cracking a few wry jokes even in his final hours. My friend, though aware that she was often hallucinating, had the grace to ask me about my passions and encourage me to keep writing. And my friend’s mom expressed gratitude to every person who came into her hospital room.

Humor, grace, and gratitude. That was what I saw in their final days and hours, and it occurred to me that those are ingredients for Joy; moreover, these three people didn’t suddenly find Joy at the end of their lives—they had cultivated Joy throughout their lives.

It became clear to me that Joy was a choice.

I realized that if I want to die in Joy and Gratitude, I need to practice choosing Joy and Gratitude every day of my life.

So how do you choose Joy? Well, that’s the whole thing, isn’t it? I think the first step is to understand that it really is a choice. After that, the choice begins to make itself.

I’ll illustrate. When I was teaching high school English, every year toward the end of July, I’d start to have back-to-school dreams. You know, the kind you may have had as a kid where you accidentally get on the bus and get all the way to school in just your underwear. Those dreams made me feel a little nervous about the new school year, and at the same time, excited by the new possibilities. I would begin to make my new lesson plans and decorate my classroom in part to alleviate the low-level anxiety—it was just part of my back-to-school preparation.

One year, though, I didn’t have any of those dreams. When I’d think of the end of the summer and my return to the classroom, I felt a sense of dread. As I heard myself speaking drudgingly of the upcoming first day of school, I feared that I was burning out. Then one afternoon, I was driving along and thinking of all this when suddenly, it hit me: I was choosing to be unhappy about the new school year! I was talking myself into feelings of burnout. I asked myself why I would want to do that.

Of course, I didn’t want to do that, and as soon as I saw that being miserable was a choice, I knew that being excited and looking forward to it was also a choice. Instantly, I felt the dread and foreboding leave my body and anticipation begin. The choice had made itself. That night, I had a back-to-school dream, and I knew I was back in business.

Joy, my friends, is a choice, and it doesn’t depend upon what’s going on around us. We get to choose Joy when everything is coming up roses, and we get to choose Joy when things are tough all over. Choosing Joy doesn’t mean that we ignore what is difficult or painful, either. Instead, choosing Joy means allowing ourselves to feel negative feelings fully and without resistance or judgement, and allowing positive feelings to do the same, without trying to grasp and hold on to them.

It is said that the Dalai Lama once learned of a child’s death, and he wept freely in his compassion. Shortly thereafter, he saw a little dog’s silly antics, and he laughed that wonderful Dalai Lama laugh. Some near him wondered which emotion was true. Both, of course, was the answer. His capacity to feel grief and to feel delight is unfettered by a desire to resist or grasp. To me, that is Joy.

Joy asks of us only that we be completely present in the moment, accepting What Is. Joy comes from knowing that grief, laughter, pain, ecstasy, sadness, happiness, despair, and beauty—all of it—is part of being human, and that each facet adds richness and texture to this life. And moment by moment, day by day, we get to choose to feel life fully.

Today, I choose Joy.

How do you, Dear Reader, choose Joy? What practices help you to cultivate Joy? Some of you have shared what you find essential: gratitude, love, forgiveness, playfulness, and acceptance, to name a few. Can you imagine how much more joyful each of us would be if we focused on cultivating even one of these attributes?

May you be filled with Joy!

Until next time,