About 10 minutes in to a run this morning, I came to a pause at a stoplight. The jog wasn’t meant to be, nor was it, anything special, really. 45 minutes at a light pace to get a sweat. As I waited for the light to turn, though, a surge of joy hit me like a bolt from the blue.

To express happiness, contentedness, or hope can, at times, feel passé. Between the sufferings of the world, the banal trials of daily routines, and the real struggles others wrestle within and without, there can be scant few places for joy to creep its way in. We can set aside time for activities we enjoy — going to a concert, getting dinner with a friend or loved one, running for the hell of it — but the rhythm of existence restricts the spontaneous moments of joy for joy’s sake. This is, of course, the human condition.

So I was moved when it struck me out of the blue. I had no real reason to feel how I did at that moment, slicked in sweat as I was, wearing a tank top that valiantly tried to keep my lower stomach fat covered up. But as the walking signal finally came up and I continued on my jog, everything seemed to click into place. The weather was gorgeous (humid from early morning rainfall without being uncomfortably hot), my body felt capable (having clawed itself back out of weight gain and months of insufficient sleep), I was creatively engaged (we shot some photos of friends yesterday to help us practice for an engagement shoot in a few weeks, I’m back here on the site writing, reading has gone well lately), and I’ve such love and appreciation for those in my life (my wife and I are always in such sync, my parents have found their own pursuits that keep them engaged with the world, my brother remains a lovable nut, my best friend is training for his first marathon with me).

It is, in retrospect, easy to see why a wave of emotion welled up out of the blue. I’m grateful it happened regardless. It is one of those sensations we experience on the rarest of occasions; and all the sweeter for that.