You Are Allowed to Feel Joy

 

“You are allowed to feel joy,” said the on-line workshop leader.  Despite the news, the threats, the changing weather, the pandemic and the fear, you are allowed to feel joy.  This was the invitation, the permission I seemed to have been waiting for.  My inner knowing knew this, my body knew this but my human mind had bought into the belief that suffering is more worthy of my attention than joy. 

I began to pay attention to when I felt joy in my everyday life – joy that didn’t require a lot of mental machinations -- spontaneous eruptions so to speak.   Spending time in the circular community garden in the park beside my home gave me the opportunity to watch small children interact with the plants and the water in the watering cans.  One child discovered a green squash hiding under the big squash leaves and I experienced joy at his find.  Watching kids pick lettuce or kale and pop it into their mouths also brings joy.

The hidden squash revealed!

Joy allows me to expand.  It is fuel for creativity.  When I stand and look at all the plants in the community garden noticing their differences in shape, shade of green, and colour of flower, I feel a kind of joy at their sharing of space.  Being a part of this co-creation of plants, insects, soil, air, water, sun and humans fuels my sense of myself as a creatrix, as a co-creator.

Fear, on the other hand, causes me to contract, to think small, to feel alone, to hoard, to worry. It keeps me awake at night.  But, Sharing food from the garden with friends, neighbours and visitors brings me joy.  I feel abundant as I share the gifts of the plants with humans.  I naturally appreciate the food that we have grown there.  I feel connected.

Down the hill from the garden is the lakeshore.  This part of Georgian Bay (Lake Huron) is called Sturgeon Bay.  There is a small beach that allows easy entry into the lake for humans.  As I walk down the sunny road towards the lake, I usually get warmer and warmer so that once I reach the beach, I am ready to cool down in the clear water.  Yesterday, the wind was blowing from the west and the waves were rolling in.  As I felt the waves move through my body, I asked the lake to wash away the suffering that my body still held.  Some of this is my own clearing of ancestral wounds and some of this is the pain of others that I have unconsciously picked up.  I have to tell myself that empathy doesn’t mean carrying around the pain of other people in my own body.  It means walking with them in a compassionate way and making sure that I am taken care of so that I can do that walking.

The female corn flower has silk threads that lead to the ovule inside the husk.

Seemingly overnight, the corn in the community garden has produced the beginnings of cobs with their silky threads waving in the wind.  The male flowers have already emerged and are producing pollen that will travel down the silky tubes to produce kernels of corn in the ovules.  I have seen corn growing in fields for my whole life, but this is the first time that I have been able to closely observe the life cycle of corn.  It is stunning and I feel joy just watching it emerge.

The male flowers or tassels produce pollen which is carried by the wind to
the silky threads of other corn plants.

http://pgandp.org/hybridcorn

This morning, my partner and I went down to our dock to cut back some of the Red Osier Dogwood that has grown over the walkways.  In a few weeks, his grown children and grandchildren will visit and we want to make it safe for them to walk beside the water.  After trimming the dogwood, he carried it up to the big compost pile near the road.  Just after placing the cut pieces on the earth, a beautiful hummingbird appeared and hovered just in front of him.  He experienced pure joy in that moment.  To me, this gift of joy spoke to letting go of what is in the way or no longer needed.  In so doing, he was gifted with joy.

As we walked home, my partner spied a chipmunk sitting on a rock amidst wildflowers, eating a black raspberry.  The chipmunk was un-phased by our presence and we managed to take a photo.  We could see a mom pulling a wagon with a toddler walking ahead of her coming towards us on the sidewalk.  We quietly brought the little boy’s attention to the chipmunk so he could experience this magical moment as well.  He was as happy as we were.

Chipmunk enjoying a black raspberry on a rock beside the sidewalk.

Both suffering and joy are a part of life.  However, too much focus on suffering leads to a sense of hopelessness and giving up.  There is so much healing work that needs to be done and stamina is a necessary part of this work.  Paying attention in the moment to the magic that is present allows joy to fuel us for this work.  Children know this.  Dogs seem to know this.  Hummingbirds and flowers teach us this as well.  And we know this as well, in the little moments of magic that uplift us and bring wind to our sails.  We are allowed to feel joy.

Echinacea and Sweetgrass bring healing.