Your Joy Is Not a Betrayal

Haven, my first grand nugget, one of the best teeter totter pals ever. She took my hand, and was one of my most significant healers in early loss. (She is seventeen now.)

Your joy is not a betrayal.

Whether you have a child in rehab, are caring for ailing parents, have experienced a turbulent season, or simply feel everysinglefeeling, your joy is not a betrayal. Cultivate it, wrap yourself and those you love with it. Your joy is of actual benefit to all beings. * Words shared by Elena Brower.

I have dabbled within this matrix before. It felt like a startling full bodied hiccup, when I first noticed my smile, my dreams coming back to me in full color, even heard myself laugh.

In my early loss I worried that others might believe it meant that I was okay, and clearly I was not, nor was I forgetting my son. (This is the weird pyscho babble of one's monkey mind.) Something far greater was inching me slowly along this conveyor belt of healing. Parts were being removed, installed, adjusted, wiggled, rearranged, fine tuned by many hands.

Known and unknown.

Suspecting that they were carefully maneuvering, skillfully creating space, for that which would allow me to learn how to live within loss. I envisioned a teeter totter, which had joy fully occupying the seat across from mine.

Squinting my eyes, looking across at my teeter totter partner, remembering how my butt hurt, when anyone jumped off suddenly, and I came crashing to the ground. Ouch! That was not a funny trick to play, making me very wary of this still mysterious and unknown partner. It was their little secret, they knew me all too well. I would have sprinted off as fast as my body could take me if the J word had been uttered prematurely. I was not ready to allow it entrance back into my tender heart, until I was.

My body was already aching head to toe, a huge body slam. I glimpsed whatever was on the other side, as it wasn't quite clear yet, as perhaps a balancing buddy? Could I try my hand at it? Something I adored doing as a child, trying to maintain a balanced position for as long as possible with my pals.

I had to slide on and off often. It felt impossible, incomprehensible. Yet, a force greater than me kept vigil, guided me to hop back on, and simply to keep showing up in the playground of healing when I was able.

I continue to remind myself that joy is not a betrayal. On the contrary, it becomes a life line, an anchor, a heart tether. Connecting me to whomever I’m longing for, missing, and hoping to grow and develop a connection with.

Who doesn’t adore a teeter totter?! I delight in it on the playground with my grand nuggets. So perhaps this is how joy first crept in, without my noticing, and has remained. What it does require is for me to be present, not to grasp too tightly, and to keep my palms and heart open to the possibility.

Leave it to my child like self to show me the way, and to help me rediscover this muscle memory. She adores blowing bubbles, walks on the beach treasure hunting for sea glass, swimming in the ocean, horseback riding, and running through sprinklers with her water loving puppy.

Here’s to jump starting our juicy joy, and no better place to begin than to ask our inner child. Please remind us of what once lit us up, and most likely still does. She might also have her eye on some new adventures, so take her hand, and let's begin.

Riding horses, a joy I discovered at age eight.