Is what you are experiencing really joy?
I turned off the water and shook off my gloves. The kitchen was clean again. For now. Until the kids would come through, open every cabinet door, leave wrappers on the counter, and leave dishes in the sink. Despite the dishwasher being empty and open, screaming, “GIVE ME YOUR DIRTY DISHES.”
I folded the towel and set it aside on the counter, next to the sink. It was late, and I was ready to call it a night. Ready to lie in bed and pretend to sleep. Until one by one, each child joined me in the kitchen. Whether it was for a late-night snack or from curiosity at the voices echoing through the house.
The conversation moved from subject to subject—some deep, some fun and light.
As I stood there, listening to my kids, I felt warmth, love, and gratitude.
I long for those serendipitous moments when we all end up in the same place at the same time.
Those times are what matter the most to me.
My kids are what matter most to me.
And yet, even in those times, I struggle to experience joy. This is only a recent discovery. I never really realized that what I was feeling was love and joy for others, but nowhere in those experiences was any joy for myself.
I wasn’t allowed.
I am not allowed.
And when that childlike wonder and excitement break through, it is quickly diminished by the strict lieutenant who keeps watching over my words and actions.
“Be an adult. You are fucking up. It’s all going to ruin now.” He shouts endlessly at me.
He pokes at my deep-seated fear that if anything good happens in my life, or if I let myself experience that joy, it will only lead to pain and loss.
Whether it’s the cookies I buy for the kids that will lead me to financial ruin, or the moments spent laughing with the kids that will ultimately end with my death.
No matter the scenario, it consistently comes down to these two things–financial ruin and death.
Over the years, I have learned to push through the fear, but it always comes at a price. Ariana was my voice of reason. I leaned so heavily on her to talk back to the lieutenant. It is one of the gifts she left me with–understanding that life is meant to be lived in joy.
I am genuinely looking forward to the day I experience real joy–not for others, but for myself.
Joy for the sake of joy.
No fear.
No judgments.
No hateful words.
Just joy.
We all have a lieutenant who seeks to protect us. It’s kind of them, but unfortunately, they are doing so with an outdated context. And I would guess that most of them were created during childhood. The time when we had very little ability to protect ourselves or speak up.
But now, our resources are greater and our capabilities far richer than they were when we were children.
So, today, find your joy. Or, at the very least, find out why you cannot feel joy and then share it here with us.
We all deserve to know that we are not alone.
Talk soon,
CJ