What makes me happy?

On Monday I went to first Zumba class. Unlike my ridiculously fit and capable friend, who bounced the whole way through, I look it fairly easy.
As I shook and stepped and laughed at my lack of coordination, I was reminded of how different life could all have been. Of the brilliance of the human body to recover and cover up. Who would know my knee hurt. Who would know my arm tingled away. Who would have believed that the woman who lay in a bed for three weeks would now be grapevining her way across a school gym in Africa.
That I can laugh at myself and find joy.
I am finding the joy in life. My confidence is growing.
I am often happy.