Over the past several months I’ve been writing to you about the courage and joy that come from walking through pain. About the importance of feeling our feelings versus shoving them down, avoiding them, or taking them out on others. Last week I wrote again about finding true joy; the moments that take our breath away in their simplicity. In writing this to you I’ve been writing from two different perspectives. The first perspective is from my own personal trauma going through a divorce. The second is from the assumption that a year into the pandemic each and every one of us has some level of trauma to unpack.
In writing from the second perspective I don’t mean to assume or project that each person is in trauma. My intention is to honor the humanity in each of us and perspective that, if you are struggling with the pandemic or any other personal trauma, to offer you the grace and compassion I offer myself. You see, I believe we are all worthy of the life we want. We’re far enough along in my writing that you know joy doesn’t come from taking from others or out in the material world. I don’t have to tell you this. When we strip it down to what makes us truly happy we find the God inside of each of us. She’s whispering, “this is the life I want for all my children.”
Will you listen to Her call? Will you listen to your heart? Your knowing? I’ve heard this calling in the wind many times. I’m no longer letting it blow by me or my life. I’m ready to do joy. I’m ready to live.
Discovering What You Want
What feels like months ago (but may be further back) I wrote myself a little note. It sits on my desktop where I see it every day. It reads:
I want to:
- Recommit to my own happiness
- Take pictures with a camera
- Turn the TV off
- Lighten my schedule
- Eat real food, drink less, but good wine
- Write
- Spend time outside
- Dance to the moon
- Disconnect my boys
- Cherish love every day
- Sink into my family & tribe
When I think about my perfect day it’s one where I’m totally unplugged, surrounded by my children, and enjoying the simple pleasures of life. It could be snapping a picture with a camera because my cell phone is down. It could be a walk in the woods or a fireside chat with Dametrius. Cooking food from the farm to my table. Dancing to the moon. Back down in the grass, eyes at the stars, boys against my chest. This, for me, is pure joy. This is life.
It’s such a simple list. Really. But when I read it to myself I know that when I do these things they bring me joy. These simple things take me home to my own heart. In coming out of trauma I saw these things as unreachable. Each time I reached for any one of them, more trauma came to me. I was told, “this is not for you, this makes you bad,” and slowly but surely I started to believe it. That is where I was losing myself. I was giving away what brings me joy. Sitting here now I know that love never asks this of any of us, and it certainly wasn’t asking it of me. It’s not asking it of you either.
Listening to Love
Love is born in our hearts and glimmers to the world. Love smiles in the sun as it sleepily peeks through the clouds every morning. It kisses us goodnight, slipping into the night light of stars. It says to us that no matter what may come for us on any given day, it will be there waiting for us. We are capable of harnessing the stars and living a life through this lens of love. Mamas, close your eyes and imagine that day when your body erupted and your babies were born. Remember their darling faces, nuzzled at your breast, and breathe that image in. That’s love. That’s joy. It’s been in you since the day you and your children were born.
Late one night, I tapped on Henry’s heart and told him, “Mama lives in your heart. I’m always with you.” He sleepily reached over and tapped my heart, “Yes, and Declan and me lived in your heart. Then you pushed me out & I was born.”
Yes baby, you were. We all were.
The more I take time in the quiet pleasures of life, the more time my heart swells and I realize how precious my life is. I used to think that life meant happiness all of the time. I know now that isn’t true. Hardship and struggle is part of being human. Yet within the same world where war exists, there are tiny baby snuggles and toddler giggles. The moon calling us for one more dance. We are made with strength to endure struggles but we are meant for joy.
So kick off your heels, pour a glass of really good wine, and snuggle up with joy. Make a list. What are your favorite things? No credit card swiped, no status gained, no other person giving or taking it from you–your favorites. Breathe in, breathe out, and chose to boldly live in real joy.
Xoxo,
Jessie