What If Joy Is always Here?

What if joy is already here, but we’ve put so many conditions around when we’re allowed to experience it that we’ve stopped letting it in?

So many of us have an unconscious “when… then…” relationship with joy.

When I’ve finished everything, then I can relax.

When everyone else is okay, then I can focus on myself.

When I’ve lost the weight, earned the money, sorted the house, found the relationship, got through this difficult patch… then I’ll enjoy my life.

We keep moving joy just a little further into the future.

Not because we don’t want to be happy, but because somewhere along the way we learned that joy is something we have to earn.

That perhaps we need to have done enough, achieved enough, helped enough, healed enough or sorted enough before we’re allowed to fully exhale and enjoy being alive.

But life rarely reaches that magical point where everything is ok.

There will nearly always be something unresolved. Someone we love may be struggling. There may be uncertainty around work, money, family, relationships or health. There will always be another thing on the list.

And if our permission to feel joy depends upon everything being okay first, we can accidentally postpone our lives.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot recently.

I’ve been moving through a period where there has been genuine worry and uncertainty in my family, while at exactly the same time something new and lovely has been unfolding in my own life.

And I’ve noticed how strange it can feel to hold those two things at once.

How do I allow myself to feel excited when someone I love is going through something difficult?

Is it okay to laugh, to feel hopeful, to have fun, when life feels uncertain?

I think many of us unconsciously believe we have to choose.

But perhaps we don’t.

Perhaps joy doesn’t mean that we don’t care.

Perhaps allowing ourselves moments of happiness doesn’t diminish somebody else’s pain.

Perhaps joy and sadness can sit at the same table.

We can be worried and grateful.

We can be grieving and still find something hilarious.

We can be uncertain about what comes next and deeply enjoy what is here today.

We can hold someone we love through a difficult chapter and still see the wonder of this magical planet.

And perhaps this is where enoughness comes in.

Enoughness is the quiet understanding that your worth is not waiting at the end of your achievements.

And maybe joy isn’t waiting there either.

Maybe you don’t need to finish everything first.

You don’t need to become a better version of yourself.

You don’t need everyone around you to be okay.

You don’t need to earn your rest, your pleasure, your laughter or your aliveness.

You are allowed to experience joy in the middle of an unfinished life.

Not when everything is sorted.

Not when you’ve finally done enough.

Not someday.

Here.

Now.

In this breath.

In this body.

In this beautifully imperfect, unresolved, sometimes brutal life.

Maybe joy was never something we were meant to chase.

Maybe it is something we learn to stop pushing away.

And perhaps the question isn’t:

“What needs to change before I can feel joyful?”

Perhaps it’s simply:

“Where is joy already trying to find me?”

If any of this is landing for you, I'd love to explore it with you in person. I'm running "Calling in Your Joy" on Saturday 22nd August, 11am–12.30pm, at Hayling Community Centre; a chance to slow down and actually practise letting joy in, rather than just thinking about it. I've got a few spaces left this week. If it's calling you, come.