Where does joy fit in all of this mess?

Portland protesters in front of the ICE building

Sometimes I find myself wondering where joy fits in all of this mess. I know not everything is a mess, but it feels that way lately as a citizen of "war ravaged" Portland. Not because it’s actually a mess here, but because I've been watching what our quixotic president is saying about our beautiful city. I've had my nose in the news more often than usual, and this leaves me feeling kind of ravaged myself.

As much as I might want to feel joy and lean into lightness, it feels really hard to force it. In fact, I don't think you can. I know people say that sometimes you have to "fake it to make it," and there's even scientific evidence that forcing a smile or beneficial activities can actually change our experience in the moment. But from a long-term perspective, forcing joy tends to ignore feelings and experiences that are begging to be noticed and felt. If we just shove them under the carpet, they might disappear temporarily (which we need sometimes!) but it won't help us grow in the long run.

For many of us, leaning into joy in a time of darkness feels disrespectful. Kind of like when I was growing up: if my dad was cleaning or upset, I was expected to be cleaning or upset. No room for differentiation of experience. 

Then there’s the idea that leaning into joy takes away from the time we spend solving problems that need to be addressed. Once we solve the problems, then we can enjoy ourselves.

Maybe you can relate to some of these concerns. I certainly recognize them in myself. But here’s what I know: joy, play and leaning into lightness can actually help us address the problems we want to solve. There will always be problems to address. Waiting until everything’s taken care of is unrealistic, and robs us of the opportunity to enjoy this life.

Leaning into things that bring us joy helps our own nervous systems regulate, which gives us more energy, perspective and the ability to problem solve. And as social creatures, when we're happy, it directly impacts others. So, while it might feel awkward or disrespectful to be happy when others are sad, our joy can actually be a gift. When we allow others the freedom of their own experiences, our uplifted mood can help them regulate, too.

I have noticed this a lot recently — alongside my fear, anxiety, anger and overwhelm come the moments of laughter, creativity, and uplift:

Marci’s client enjoying bubbles on the beach in her track-chair

My good friend Marci is like a wedding planner for people at the end of their lives, helping them make the most of their last few weeks and days. Where other people shy away, she makes dreams possible. She brings them to the beach, arranging for specialty track-chairs that allow for travel on the sand. She takes them kayaking, books relaxing travel, helps them lead drum circles, and even plans surprise visits from family. Her business, End of Life Advocacy and Care, is the ultimate in integrating lightness in and around the dark. 

Locally, many people are shocked and upset at Trump’s attempt to bring the national guard to Portland. But despite their ire, Portlanders are showing what’s possible when we integrate joy, play and creativity into our sense of responsibility. Dancing, costumes, flowers, ukulele concerts, and “emergency” naked bike rides, all covered by traditional news outlets and political pundits alike. “Joy is a form of protest,” said one rider. One couple, dressed in inflatable Kenny and unicorn costumes, even decided to get married in front of the ICE building. According to one Instagram post by the Oregonian, they decided to get married to bring some joy to a dark time: “People can be fun loving and still protest.”

So, I guess that’s where joy fits in all of this mess: right smack dab in the middle of all of it.