Is Joy a Side Hustle?

I don’t want my kids to have to throw away a lot when I die, and yet I keep buying fabric and yarn. I realize that sentence implies that I am 120 years old. I’m 57. I just have a lot of fabric and yarn, and some ideas that aren’t going to reshape the universe, but they’re fun. And yet I put conditions on when I can do these fun things. I make myself do “productive” things first. 

Like:

• Laundry
• Writing a to-do list
• Contacting that someone on email, to remind them that I’m still around lest they want to hire me to do something valuable that generates no revenue.
• Moving obstacles from the roomba’s path
• Maybe deciding where a picture should be hung
• Moving above picture to lean against the wall where it will be hung
• Not actually hanging the picture due to lack of proper hanging tools
• Putting “buy proper hanging tools” on the to-do list.

These are some of the productive things that have to come first because, apparently, according to me, I have to earn joy. 

Earn joy.

According to me, I have to prove myself worthy of joy? 

Is joy a side hustle, not the main gig?

There are bumper stickers that declare “Don’t postpone joy.” I see them while I do productive things like going to the car wash after buying picture hanging accessories. I agree with them, and get mad at them all at once. I don’t want to postpone joy. I want to find it in the most unexpected and mundane places, per the bumper stickers’ instructions. I want to marvel at the dance of the car wash bristles and the impressionistic squiggles of soap. I want to delight in the Jackson Pollock-esque splat of bird poop centered perfectly on my sun roof moments after leaving the car wash. I want to dare to eat a peach even as it falls from the pit into my lap causing me to worry more about the peach’s impact on my outfit rather than my impact on the car in front of me. I want to prioritize joy, but sometimes things piss me off.

Sometimes it’s too hot to feel joy.

Sometimes home repairs are too expensive to dally in joy.

Sometimes a job is a job and not a joy.

Sometimes a bird shits on your car after you spent $25 on a carwash and there’s no silver lining

Sometimes it feels selfish to languish in joy when there are things that need to get done.

So, I postpone joy. It goes to the bottom of the to-do list. It’s still on the to-do list, but more important stuff needs to come first like:

• Calling my Senator
• Caulking something in the house
• Returning that jumpsuit to Amazon
• Bundling my streaming services
• Drinking more water
• Reading something important
• Cleaning the air conditioner filters
• Complimenting my husband
• Meal planning
• Reaffirming my relevance
• Brushing the dogs’ teeth

And way at the bottom of the list is

• Work on that Star Wars quilting square

It’s at the bottom because it doesn’t advance civilization. It doesn’t move the needle. It does not provide a safety net for my children. It is not in any way shape or form important in the grand scheme of things. It simply brings me joy. Something I wish we all felt we deserve more of. It’s not something to be earned, but something that deserves a place on the to-do list. Or, better yet, it needs to be on the must-do list, which also includes breathe, eat, love, live (take that Elizabeth Gilbert).

I know that a quilted Star Wars Wall Hanging will not move the needle. It will likely wind up in a thrift shop like old nightgowns, second string trays, or all those piles of old pictures that, while posing in front of that pretty rock, no one thought would one day be sold for a prop piece in a regional theater production of Brighton Beach Memoirs. But the act of choosing which fabrics go with which Star Wars characters filled me with joy, and might be fun for someone to look at. And hopefully the memory of that will bring my sons joy when they clean out my fabric cabinet, and remind them of their must-do list.