We Need Joy
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After college, my best friend and I drove from her home in Texas through the Southwest. We put a cab on the back of her old Ford Step-side pick-up truck so we could sleep in the back, and we toured the country, talking to truckers on the CB radio and meeting fellow travelers along the way.
We spent about a week in the canyons of Utah after befriending the staff at a hotel at Bryce National Park, thereby avoiding paying for a room. One night, deep in the dark, we sat on the edge of the canyon talking about the world and the beauty that abounds. I didn’t know what time it was, but I knew morning had to be nearby. One of the guys we were with asked if we could be quiet for a bit, so we sat, feet hanging over the edge, in complete silence.
And as we sat, the most magnificent, most glorious thing happened. The sun rose. It broke through the darkness in such a grand display of power and grace I would not have been surprised had the rocks and trees started to sing Alleluia. We sat awestruck until we spontaneously broke out in applause, hollering and cheering in gratitude.
Joy is not in the circumstance, but in the response. The sun rises every day, like it or not. Being entranced by it is a choice.
I’ve been an activist my entire adult life. I’ve fought and struggled and disputed and attacked and argued with the best of them. I’ve drawn lines and crossed lines. I’ve lived with and cried with the poorest of the poor. The wellspring from which this work is fed is an abiding hope and an experience of joy. Were this not true in my life, my first night with a broken child would have been my last. I have never been charged by my anger. I know it exists and I confront it each time I look into the face of suffering, but it is not what propels me forward.
When I was deepest in that work, I put a sign on my door with a sketch of two women frolicking on the beach and a quote from Emma Goldman which said: “If I can’t dance, I don’t want to be part of your revolution.” Pollyanna, I am not. But if the work for peace isn’t sourced by joy, the world we dream about will never be made manifest.
Take a moment to remember. Remember the first time you spoke your truth. Remember the rest you took in the garden. Remember the conversation that went deep into the night. Remember the meal you shared with people you love. Remember the birth of your child. Remember the silence of a morning or the laughter of an evening. Those moments are the wellspring of our work.
There is much work ahead. Rights to fight for and wrongs to protest. A planet to protect and people to value. There’s a margin that needs to be made center and a center that needs to be made whole. So we need joy.
We need to remember that grace abounds and the sun rises in magnificence every day. We need to celebrate the tiny gifts we are given as if the universe shines her great fortune upon us, and we need to celebrate the tiny gifts we give as if we ourselves are the universe. We need to applaud the sunrise until we are propelled back into the world filled with joy.
- Silence as a Spiritual Tool - December 1, 2020
- On Love and Death - October 1, 2020
- The Creative Spirit - April 1, 2017
Thank you for this article. I believe if you have enough joy in your life you can get through almost anything. While we’re trying to save the world we sometimes forget not only the joy, but wonder at the power and mystery of our lives. Surely even as U.U s we can celebrate the sacred in a way that is fitting for each of us.