The Joy I Didn't Know I Was Still Waiting For

I keep seeing people posting all the extraordinary things they’ve done this year. The travels. The excursions. The accomplishments.

But not me. This year, I found a feeling again.

Pure, unbridled joy.

The kind I had as a teenager when my homeroom was the gym and I played badminton every possible second. When Robin and I, my doubles partner, were city champions in our age group.

My parents described me as “the smart one,” but when I look back at high school what I loved the most were the sports.

Basketball, volleyball, soccer, and most of all, badminton.

Competition. Movement. Skill mastery. Play.

And belonging.

That sense of belonging you get when you're on a sports team.

And then high school ended.

And so did the sports.

There wasn’t really anything for girls.

I tried tennis but could never find a partner. I eventually found my way to running, aerobics, and step class, which came the closest to that badminton feeling. For a few years, going out dancing every Thursday and Friday night sparked joy too.

But I grieved organized sports.

And I was constantly searching for something, willing it into existence.

And then, two years ago, pickleball showed up in my tiny northern Quebec town.

I knew even before I played it, that it would become my sport. I knew even before I picked up a paddle that I had found it.

I knew, even though I totally sucked the first times I played.

Fifty years later I found what I didn't know that I was waiting for.

I have to tell you, what you wish for doesn't necessarily happen overnight. Some wishes take a lifetime to manifest.

But they do.

And I definitely manifested pickleball.

Today I played for a couple of hours in a women’s league, and something clicked. I've suddenly developed a level of skill that makes playing an outright explosion of joy.

That’s how kids feel when they play.

I haven't felt this much joy in anything since high school.

Play.

No agenda.

Not making the world a better place.

Not being useful.

Not helping the planet.

Just pure, unadulterated joy.

And here's the thing. When you're rediscovering who you are, when you're standing at the edge of a new chapter, play isn't optional.

It's essential.

Because play reconnects you to aliveness.

To instinct.

To the parts of you that existed before responsibility and roles took over.

I'm sure it makes me a better person.

I'm sure it helps me bring more heart into my work.

But pickleball has nothing to do with work.

It has everything to do with reclaiming a part of myself I thought was gone forever.

I am SO grateful.

What gives you blinding joy?

What did you bury from your youth?

Where do you play with total abandon?

Maybe it is time to find that again.

This is your Soul Nudge.