Sleep can be like a hole that you are shoved down into. Some sleep feels like rest that leaves you refreshed while others is a craggy womb whose end is like the opening of a clamshell leaving your soft exposed interior ready for the day but still soft and very exposed.
The day washes over you and though it is still dark out and a tennis court calls your son to it though he is both happy to go and extremely ungrateful you drive him into that dark tennis court because he confessed his love for it despite his lack of skill.
Then you drive back into the darkness of the predawn hours and find them comfort even though your rational mind laments the morning. What is it that you can grasp onto that would carry you through the day fulfilling eternal purpose despite its exterior embellishments?
Then you remember the new saying that has come to you from an eternal source and has found purchase on your lips. Joy is the tip of the spear. A spear in hand driving hard into the day seeking the live-giving flow that would feed your family and write some purpose on your life.
No matter what the spear will be thrust forward for the spear is time and we are all part of it. Yet, there is joy and it sharpens the spear and makes the work of pushing it forward pay off. A dull spear might chip and shatter before its time leaving the bearer stuck fighting a battle with a dull stick. Yet a dull stick with a metal sharpened head is now a weapon that has felled kings, won wars, and allowed man to drive himself from the hunter-gatherer to the philosopher he is now. What of joy? Well, joy as said before is the sharpened point. A meaning affixed to the end of a dull stick.