Practicing joy when you want to crawl back into the womb, rejoin the ether, and start over

Practicing joy, sigh.

Doesn’t it feel a little disingenuous to feel any amount of joy when so many things seem to be, well, joyless, or even worse - actually terrible?

For me, it always has. It may always feel that way until I expire to be honest. One thing that gives me hope, though, is knowing that joy is one of our built-in, time-tested antidotes to despair.

Despair takes us out of our bodies and plunges us into a cold tank of fear, paralysis, shame, darkness, loneliness, and is the furthest thing from joy that exists. They don’t just sit at the opposite ends of a spectrum. They are actually like oil and water - they have a hard time being together.

Try smiling when you are deeply grieving the unexpected loss of someone or something that anchored you. Try singing a sad song without laughing when you have just had the best day of your life thus far. It is difficult to do these things without feeling a bit silly or incongruous.

Joy is a practice. It is not an end state or a goal to be achieved. Joy is choosing. Joy is hard, and yet, it is what makes life worth living. One of the cool things about joy is that it is both universal and completely unique to each of our spirits. No one can tell you the perfect cocktail to access your own joy. Only you have the recipe. Joy can come when no one is looking, and in fact, sometimes it waits until you are completely alone in the safest of spaces. When you are your own best friend, holding space for just you and your wants and wishes, your soul relaxes, your mind slows, and your joy emerges.

I have been vacillating between joy practice and some of the saddest moments lately. It is right now that I need joy practice the most - finding the spaces where I feel truly held by myself and others. Here are some ways I practice joy. I don’t know if they will work for you, but don’t be discouraged if they don’t. Find joy in discovering the recipe, stirring your own pot, gathering the ingredients that call to your body and spirit, imagining a life that contains everything that makes you truly and deeply you.