Blue Flower Power: Joy
Updated: Sep 29
Why modern life offers endless stimulation but so little transcendence
Frank Needlenose reveals his philosophy of life in one sentence:
"Please don't tell me you've begun to fear the Unknown. That's for grown-ups, not for children."
This line is so important because it gets at something that's uncomfortable. Growing up often means losing wonder. Curiosity gets crushed. Life becomes organized, managed, and most importantly explained.
But Frank is the resistance. Because just a little later, the worlds begin overlapping and reality itself starts spiraling. Rain falls upward, giant sparrows appear, a storm of lemonade bears down. But Frank is fascinated. He sees possibility everywhere. Even this incredible danger is exciting to him. Because for Frank, the world needs to stay open.
And there’s something beautiful about this.
Most people know this feeling, even if they don't always have a way to describe it. You know it when it hits. And you aren't necessarily conscious of it in the moment. It's only afterwards that you realize what happened.
It’s the “I’d rather be here than any other place in the world” feeling. For most people, moments are transitions, one to the next. Busy schedules. Looking at calendars, But then there’s those few that stand alone, that aren’t transitions. They break through. They transcend the moment.
The Ice Rink
A personal moment for me occurred many years ago when I was watching my daughter skate. I was alone in the bleachers. She was with her coach, trying over and over to land a jump. She had been working on this jump for weeks, months even. And each time, over hundreds of attempts, she had failed. And each failure resulted in her falling onto the ice. It was difficult to watch.
But on that day, in that non-descript rink, something glorious happened. She landed the jump. And then she did it again. She hugged her coach. Then she looked over at me in the stands with a smile that made me melt. And in that moment there was transcendence. Something so human broke through.
All that hard work paid off. Her joy, her beaming smile A transcendent joy grabbed me. A joy that is difficult to put into words. This was no transitional or transactional moment. And had I not been there, had I not been paying attention, I might have missed it. In that moment, there was no other place in the world that I wanted to be then right there right then.
This was a big moment for her but for me as well.
It interrupted the mechanical rhythm of my life—reminded me that being alive is supposed to feel like something. I saw in her smile all the joy of someone who had transcended her own limitations. And it was contagious.
But this transcendence is limited. And we see that in Sparkle Valley
If Frank’s world is chaos (Book 2), then Hank’s world is barren (Book 3). But Doris threads the needle
“Well I think I can grow up and keep my imagination."
Yes!
The central idea behind all of Sparkle Valley.
And the Romantics:
Keats:
“A thing of beauty is a joy forever.”
Shelley:
“Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory.”
Like that moment at the ice rink,
Wordsworth:
“The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers.”
Henry Miller:
“The moment one gives close attention to anything, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.”
Emerson's advice still feels profound:
"Scatter joy."
It's not because suffering disappears, or life suddenly becomes easy. But it's because joy itself helps keep the world open.
