This is what pure joy looks like.

Everywhere, everyone is tense. Schedules and budgets. Planning and execution. Too much and too little. Communication snafus, snippy exchanges. High stakes, limited resources. At home, at the office, generally around town. I know experience is all about the lens. But it seems everyone's lenses are kind of cloudy right now.

Nearing the end of the kids' evening routine, 30 minutes later than was ideal, Kai disappeared. Then there was giggling coming from the guest room. I opened the door and there he was jumping up and down, up and down—making swirling 360's, oblivious I'd even entered the room. I started to make him stop, demand that he brush his teeth RIGHT NOW but the look on his face—pure joy—was something I hadn't seen all day. So I just let him keep going. Then I grabbed my phone and snapped this shot (and also more, many more). Then I let my feet slide out from under me and slumped down,  next to the bed, watching him. Julian came in and joined me. A few minutes later, we three went to brush teeth and then upstairs read books. Then Julian went to bed. Then Kai ripped one of Julian's Tibetan prayer flags and chaos ensued. Then, Kai was taken to his own room. Then he escaped. Then on and on and on (Two hours later—like RIGHT NOW—Kai is asleep. I think. UPDATE: He's NOT.)

After all of this, I logged into Facebook to see so, so many photos of rainbows (some double) and groups of adults exuding the same sort of joy that registered on Kai's face earlier. Their joy was more hard-won, I know, but pure and sweet, nonetheless. The Burlington School budget passed! Woo hoo! Phew! Perhaps the tide is turning. Perhaps smiles will spread.