B is for Bliss.
Bliss is not a word I use very often. But recently, I was thinking about 'joy' and I started wondering what the difference as between joy, passion and bliss. So, of course, in order to analyze these ideas I had to get more concrete.
I think the main difference, for me, is that bliss is an enveloping kind of feeling. More a downward motion than joy which I think of as generally uplifting. Bliss is a drifting, sinking kind of super-happiness. Now, this idea may be because I can only come up with one example.
When my kids were little, I remember going to bed at night so weary and that bed was so welcome. Most mothers of young children experience this, I'm sure. Sliding between the sheets, having the day finished and a night of peaceful rest was the best part of that day. When the bed was freshly made - that was a pleasure. With line-dryed sheets? That's bliss.
About the only time I use the word bliss in conversation might be in the phrase, "ignorance is bliss". We have some young neighbors down the street who have planted a small garden in their front yard. One day this summer I had noticed that they were carefully training a vine up a pole. I'm sure they're hoping to hide an ugly utility pole with the lovely white flowers this vine produces. How wonderful that this vine is growing wild! Yes, it is the dreaded morning glory vine that most of us work for years to erase from our gardens.
So, is bliss such a rare experience for others?
* not very good photo of Southerly Breeze by Horst Maria Guilhaumer
6 comments:
That first photo is so strange and ghostlike, but it drew me in to try and see more, is it some kind of photo art or somethning? Bliss and joy, I never thought about the difference, but I think you are are absolutly right!! And sinking into bed, really tired is a perfect example. I love morning glories and we have planted them by the front door. I think you're right about bliss being kind of rare, I don't really think of any example for myself, except sitting on the couch with my husband, with my feet up, at night when the day's rushing around is done.
Ginny - this print hangs in our laundry room - credit is at the end of my post. We bought it about 10 years ago in Harbourville, Nova Scotia. It actually has a lot of green and color to it.
I forgot to comment on the morning glory vine: this is not a true morning glory. It's known as bindweed in other parts of the world as well as wild morning glory. It's a choking, rampant vine that does no one's garden any good. But the flowers are pretty.
And yet, if you could see the morning glories in my neighbor's yard, you'd feel that sense of bliss. Of course, her next door neighbor hates them and tries to poison them, but to me, they may be greedy plants, but they are pretty when in bloom.
You've a print in your laundry room? Wowsa! or maybe bliss?
Stephanie, I definitely agree with you that bliss is a downward form of joy, even though that sounds like a contradiction.
And yes, bliss is to fall into bed, tired from a physical day, between clean line-dried sheets. Ah! I'm just about to do that now!
My other bliss is getting into a scented bath, or rubbing in my hand cream and inhaling that blissful scent.
I've just realised that my bliss is all of the aroma variety.
I like "ignorance is bliss" and also your neighbour's tender care. Wonderful post.
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