Joy
For those of you who know, joy is kind of my thing.
I sometimes get flack for it - teased about being overly optimistic, criticized for not being in reality, dismissed because it seemingly comes easily to me.
So imagine my delight, last Sunday, when the minister at Glide spoke of choosing joy in the face of trauma. “Some people, when they encounter my joy, think I’m silly, unserious, or even unprofessional,” he said.
I sat straight up. He was speaking my thoughts.
He went on.
“People often mistake seriousness for depth. They think that the more somber and stern you are, the more legitimate your leadership. But I know, and my ancestors knew, that joy is what keeps us resilient. My joy doesn’t mean I’m ignoring the pain or the struggle—it means I’m refusing to let it define me. It means I know how to move through the pain without letting it own me. I refuse to let the world’s weight rob me of the ability to see light, to crack a joke, to smile with my whole body.”
As sure as DNA is passed down through generations, he argued, so is joy. He shared stories of his ancestors cracking jokes and sharing laughter as an act of resistance against suffering.
I thought of my grandmother who was incessantly friendly and spoke to everyone she met. My mother who greeted every day with curiosity. And my father who was consistently optimistic about possibility. Absolutely those traits were passed down to me.
As much as sadness is present, real, and true in my life - so is joy. It is available to me right now.
I can hold both.
I can hold both.
That night I woke up, my mind hungrily seeking to latch onto anxiety. Then I remembered joy. I repeated the word slowly as I breathed in and out. My mind fought but my heart kept turning to joy in response. Eventually, my mind relaxed into it as well. For the first time in a long time, I fell right back to sleep.
“Your laughter, your joy, is a rebellion against everything that tells you to stay stuck in your pain. Joy is the flower that blooms out of dry ground. Your joy is your inheritance, passed down from the generations who laughed even when their hearts were breaking.” Minister Marvin White