Joyful Defiance

I recently heard it said that joy is an act of defiance. I’ve been contemplating that narrative, and I think there’s some solid truth to be had here. Let’s dive into it.

We live in a world that, by nature, tends to suffocate out joy. We see this in countless ways: loss of physical health, decline in mental health, dissolutions of marriage, job shortages, food insecurity, death, natural disasters, war, calamity, etc. The list of heartbreaks is endless, and we’d be naturally inclined to surrender our joy to these forces. But, what if instead of a fleeting emotion, we wielded joy as a weapon?

Eight years ago, my body fell prisoner to severe illness that doctors could not explain. I was hospitalized dozens of times. I had to take a leave of absence from work. I lost an unhealthy amount of weight. My mental health tanked. Sorrow flooded my soul. Truly, it was a dark period I hope I never have to repeat; however, looking back, it was joyful defiance (and sheer grit) that carried me. It’s important to note that I’m not talking about a fake-it-til-you-make-it mentality. I’m talking about true and unabridged joy, which can be exceedingly difficult to see when you’re in the thick of it.

There is nothing joyful in trials and tribulations, but I think if we seek it out, we’ll find moments of joy hiding in plain sight. In sickness, it was every picture my child drew for me, every hug of a friend, and every act of kindness by strangers that carried me through. More recently, in seasons of deep depression, it was every laugh from my children, every chirp of the birds, and every sunset painting the night sky. It was never days of joy, but rather only moments of reprieve. Somehow, those moments sustained me. It was enough. Even still, I had to seek them out.

Joy comes to us in moments- ordinary moments. We risk missing out on joy when we get too busy chasing down the extraordinary. - Brene Brown

I know what I speak of is not a natural born skill, and I want to reiterate that I’m not speaking of forced happiness. In fact, I think failure to acknowledge the difficult things around us is dangerous. I know because I’ve lived in spaces where it wasn’t okay to live in the truth of a struggle. It’s in naming our struggle and being willing to wrestle with joy in the midst of it that hopefully, just hopefully, we find solace from the sorrow.