An attempt to express the feeling of my baby’s first smile
And most likely, a failure to properly do so
There just aren’t the words.
But I have to try.
Take everything you’ve ever felt. The joy. The sorrow. The excitement. The anger.
Set it all aside and open up a new box.
In that box, there’s a depth that was inconceivable from the outside. It goes to a place you’ve never imagined, and never thought was possible.
When you go in, there’s a warmth. It’s somewhat similar to what I imagine it feels like to be in one of those sensory deprivation tubs. It’s warm, but it’s not?
It’s exactly where you were always meant to be.
Once that warmth has taken you in, the feelings begin to work from the inside.
The gentle beating of a butterfly’s wings is far too brutal and aggressive to describe the kind, soft, sweet motion that begins deep inside of you.
It’s a humming lined up with your entire being. As if all the moments of joy you’ve experienced were mixed together to make the vibrations of a perfect sound.
And you feel it.
It washes over you like the wave you didn’t know you were waiting for.
I want to say I was bursting with joy, but it’s far too harsh. There are no words to tell you the kindness and comfort that his smile came along with.
And if you’re not a monster, you probably cry.
I did.
Hell, I am now just thinking about it.
It’s just a smile, though.
A tiny motion.
One that we see daily making its way across the faces of our friends, lovers, and strangers.
So what makes it so special?
I thought this was how I would feel at the birth. But our birth was chaos—a trauma to be unpacked another day, in one of those fun laying down couches placed so intentionally inside of a therapist’s professional-looking office.
More than just the difficulty of the birth, I knew it was coming then. I expected it to be huge. Everyone tells you about the emotions that come with the new baby.
This time, it caught me off guard.
There was no warning.
It hits you like a train. In the nicest way possible, of course.
Thinking back on that small, but massive moment this morning, I really want to understand why such a small thing is so big to me.
So if you’re still reading, you’re welcome to continue on and take on that exploration with me.
When my brother passed away just over two years ago, I weirdly took on a passion for seeking out and understanding joy, happiness, contentment, what-have-you. While I’m sure it was a bizarre attempt to balance out the immense feeling of grief and sadness, it was something that I knew he would be proud of me for.
I read The Book of Joy, I read The Happiness Project and Happiness, I read about positive psychology, I sought out conversations about what makes us happy in life, I did (and still do) it all.
It’s become something important to me.
It’s become my answer to why.
Life doesn’t have a clear reason until we give it one. And that’s beautiful. You get to choose your why. It’s one thing that no one can ever tell you how to do.
I made the conscious decision to simply make the reason for mine to be ‘happiness’.
However you want to interpret that, you’re probably right.
It can be hedonistic. I seek out a lot of joy and pleasure in life.
It can be generous. I love helping others and make it the purpose of my work.
It can be philosophical. I sure like to think about it a hell of a lot.
It can be whatever you want it to be.
Because happiness doesn’t come in a single shape.
But finding my life’s “purpose” to be happiness and joy definitely hasn’t made me an expert on it, nor has it made me the world’s happiest man (they’ve already given someone that title anyway).
But it has given me such a gift.
It’s made me pay so much attention to those little moments.
And little Zef’s first smile said something big.
It told me he’s here, listening. He’s watching. He’s engaging.
It told me that he’s already feeling joy.
And if I can teach my baby anything. I will teach him that no matter what comes up, no matter how dark the world may seem at times, no matter what others may try to tell you, there’s always a reason to be happy.
Sure. You’ll feel down. You sure as shit won’t feel happy at a lot of times.
But you can’t forget that the reasons are there.
A smile.
The start of a life that I will work tirelessly to fill with as much joy as humanly possible.
And while it may have started sooner, today he told us he’s listening.
My boy will know joy.
And for that to happen, I need to as well.
Man.
I can’t wait for you to experience whatever it is that brings you this feeling.
Because we all deserve it.
What have you experienced that you simply can’t describe?
