Summer of Joy
One of the greatest learnings of my life has been that we can hold a multitude of emotions and energies at once. On any given day we might feel defeated, exhausted, amused, inspired, and determined--we don't have to choose one and we don't have to apologize for any. Our bodies can hold space for traumas and grief while delighting in little things like a cool breeze on our skin, a baby's giggles, our pet's loving gaze. Knowing this is important because it might just help us to not feel the guilt of an indulgent day of rest or pleasure, despite the failures of our democracy and it's insistence on violence and oppression, the raging wars and pandemics, and the accumulating horrors of our planet warming. We experience moments of tenderness amidst a backdrop of turbulence because we are resilient beings with a slant towards survival, not only in a physical sense, but in a spiritual one.
A moment that has stuck with me for more than twenty years happened during my freshman year of college. I had just returned to campus following a period of mourning the death of my boyfriend who had been murdered while attempting to buy drugs in New Orleans. I would later find out that he was shot by a 15-year old, a kid that had easy access to a gun and something to prove on the streets. Walking back into my community of fellow students, I was greeted by many with hugs and condolences, sympathy cards and prayers. But one person, who likely meant well, said something to me then that created such a strong reaction in my body that I remember the feeling to this day. She shared, "I don't know how you're doing as good as you are. I know if this happened to me I would not be able to handle it." She implied that I was grieving incorrectly or not visibly enough.
I felt my stomach grip and I thought I was going to be sick. She may have intended to be supporting me but she struck a feeling inside of me that I hadn't yet been acquainted with during my suffering--shameful guilt. The guilt of surviving. The guilt of trying to live my life, despite the pain. The guilt for appearing strong and resilient, attempting to show up for classes so I wouldn't fail the semester. The guilt for having needs and desires while I mourned. But alongside the heartache and guilt, there was a spirit inside of me that refused to be fully defeated.
I don't remember how I responded exactly on the outside. I just remember mumbling a thank you and quickly walked away. I knew that despite what this person had said I was hurting more than I thought was humanly possible. And I knew instinctively that showing up for my classes was the only way to keep myself alive.
In this same way today, showing up for our selves, our families and communities, feels more and more like an act of political warfare, to reference Audre Lorde's plea for self-care. I share this personal moment now to reclaim a space for emotional complexity for myself and to offer an argument for reaching towards the light-- not in spite of the darkness --but because of it. We need to create spaces for joy and aliveness now more than ever so that we have the resources to meet the heavy demands of the days ahead. We need to be reminded that we can savor the joy and love in our lives without ignoring all that's wrong with the world. We can do both--thrive while fighting--love while suffering--laugh while crying.
Today I am committing to a Summer of Joy--of Spiritual Survival--because I'm acutely aware of the state of the world. Joy to me is not only about pleasurable things like ice cream and sunsets, but rather it's about moving towards what makes me feel more alive. Asking myself regularly,"What matters to me right now?" "What feels most important about today?" "What feels like spiritual survival?"
I've committed to making a monthly donation to the National Network of Abortion Funds because bodily autonomy and reproductive justice are issues that matter to me. I've also joined MOMS DEMAND ACTION For Gun Sense in America because I care deeply about the families of victims of gun violence. This group is the largest and most effective organizing body that continues to take on the NRA and right-wing gun advocates and lobbies.
Feeling hopeless and alone is the opposite of aliveness to me. So, I'll continue to fight for our right to safety, belonging, dignity and joy. Below are a few more ideas to spark joy and aliveness in your Summer.
Listen: Marine Biologist Ayana Elizabeth Johnson's Interview on On Being which gives hope to the current climate crisis, she asks the question: What if we get this right?
Read: Pakistani American Clinical Therapist Anjuli Sherin writes on the intersection of social justice, trauma, and resilience in her book Joyous Resilience: A Path to Individual Healing and Collective Thriving in an Inequitable World
Move Your Body: The Scientific 7-Minute Workout from the New York Times, my go-to quick workout when I need a mood booster
Transform: The Most Comprehensive App for Well-being backed by neuroscience and it's free! I'm so impressed with this incredible program, HealthyMinds, for centering, discovering mindfulness, and learning new ways of being