I’ve been thinking a lot about joy recently. Six months ago, my medical school interview at UCSF started with a simple but confusing statement:

“Please discuss the fluidity of joy.”

Come again? The fluidity of joy? I must be in California, I thought. Since my stumbling and confused interview answer, I’ve thought a lot about the fluidity of joy.

I suppose a fluid is defined as something that flows under applied shear stress. It’s not breakable, or conformed, or disappearing. I think joy must be fluid – how else would it survive the pressures of stress, and anger, and anxiety, and sadness. It’s not quite solid, like happiness. We know what makes us happy – puppies, and ice cream, and sitcoms, and jokes. It’s predictable. It’s conformed. It’s fleeting.

Joy comes from a more fluid and indescribable place, and it must be different for every person. I think joy must be the great-grandmother of happiness. Happiness is still lacking the wisdom that sustains joy.

When I think of joy, I think of my grandmother, Nana. She’s the kind of person who chooses joy in every circumstance. She has taught me to choose joy, even in the toughest of circumstances. Joy is a whole note sustained in background of a symphony. It’s always there, whether we choose to hear it or not.

I’m so thankful for the JOY that the past few weeks in Malawi has brought me. In its fluidity, it has truly withstood the shear pressure of failure, and tiredness, and confusion, and at times chaos. I’m not sure why I included a picture of Grace – maybe because she brings me joy. I hope her picture helps you to choose sustaining joy today.