JOY

We all want “joy” in our life. Not the fleeting type that comes from a new gadget or a compliment, but the deep, steady kind. It is the type of pleasure that hums beneath our skin, even when life becomes messy. “Joy” is not gifted to us by circumstance or luck. It is something we build, something we choose, and most importantly, something for which we have complete responsibility for.

Many of us walk through life dragging invisible baggage packed with old hurts, betrayals, regrets, and stories we have told ourselves for years. We carry the burdening weight of past relationships that taught us to doubt; or even worse, to shrink. Echoes of childhood wounds, societal expectations, and the fear of being utterly misunderstood resound in our thoughts.

It is no wonder that “joy” feels nearly unreachable. The utter truth is that “joy” cannot thrive in clutter. It needs space. “Joy” needs us to unload what no longer serves life.

Taking responsibility for our “joy” does not mean ignoring pain or pretending that everything is fine. We must realize that although we may not have chosen our wounds, we do choose what do with them now. A simple example: Do we honor life’s drawbacks, then learn from them or release them?

Life’s responsibility is profound. It is comprised of moments when we stop waiting for someone to fix us, validate us, or make us happy. Life is the moment we say, “This is my life, my job, my path, and more importantly, my “joy.”