I’m planning to go to a Mensa gathering this evening, just some people getting together in a restaurant/bar for conversation. The last time this particular gathering gathered, it was fascinating. I met several new people, including some from other countries, who knew and talked about things I didn’t know, so I learned. It was a good time.

But there was one woman present who I’d only known from online interactions. Unfortunately, in person, she was the same: always complaining, angry, and put upon. Nothing was right, and everything needed to be corrected to her standards. Thinking about tonight’s gathering, I’m anticipating the good, but I’m wondering what I might say if I find myself in proximity to this woman, to short-circuit her kvetching. I think I’ll ask her what brings her joy.

That, however, makes me think she might turn the question back on me: what brings me joy? So I’ve been thinking about that.

I try to find some joy in every day: whether it’s talking with my family, hearing a new song or joke (well, new jokes are rare these days), or learning and playing games with friends, but those are little things, small joys (mind you, that doesn’t make them any less important or less cherished). But there are bigger joys, too: being on stage (thinking of the talk I gave last weekend, about punctuation and my new book), selling a story or essay, or experiencing something genuinely new, like visiting a new place.

Most of those, however, rely on other people. But there are also the joys that don’t require other people’s efforts: writing, for me, is one of those joys, whether I’m at the keyboard or out walking and the right turn of phrase comes to me. Selling what I’ve written adds another level of joy, but even without the selling, I enjoy my time choosing precisely the correct word, and ordering those correct words. My wood carving is another one of those joys; one I get to experience too seldom, especially in the colder months, since there’s no place to do it in the house. And there are a few cherished movies I’ll rewatch when I need a lift, a pick-me-up, because they always make me smile (although movies, by their very nature, require other people to have done a great deal to get them to me). It’s a similar thing with reading an especially good passage or engrossing story, when not only am I enjoying what I’m reading, but I’m trying to figure out how the writer did it, to see if I can learn from it to improve my own writing.

Anyway, that’s a short answer to the question I may ask of others this evening, but I’ll ask you, too: what brings you joy?