Joy some mo'
Your dreams are worth more than your job.
That place you go to daily to make someone else’s money. To be a part of someone else’s made up systems. Yeah. Your happiness and personal goals are worth more than that.
I remind myself this daily. That I am probably not tired, I am probably just gravelly underwhelmed by the mundane nature of my job. That even the things I enjoy doing at my job, I cannot do often. That I parent single-handedly daily and I get little reprieve as my only child needs me to be his mom, dad, sister. All of the things, all of the time.
Even amidst these responsibilities, I am grateful. I feel the need to say this because the moment you speak your truth, everyone thinks it is a complaint. But it is a fact and the numbers don’t lie. We all have 24 hours. When most of it is spent at work, and giving to others, you spend less of it on yourself and even less doing the things you enjoy. It is not because you do not enjoy the things you enjoy. You are emptied from the day. We. We are emptied from the day.
Trying to do more of the things. But like being creative on any level, there are some days I just can’t muster up anything that satisfies my standards. But I am rethinking this too. Every time pen reaches paper or fingers tap over a keyboard it is not even necessarily in hopes of a new post for the blog or a finished piece period. It is because I am injecting joy into my being. I write without intent. There are times where I’ve sat down with no ideas and then WOOSH! A whole post. A whole vibe. And they have been complete messages to myself. And I love when that happens!
I am after my joy like when people search for God. I search for it in the day. It is sometimes in silence. Or the sun hitting my skin, reminding me to be in the moment. I can always find my way back to it. It exists in you and often is a choice of mindset. You are light. You really are. You walk into a room and light shit up, you spark beautiful things by existing. Even when existing in spaces that feel counterproductive, you are still a gorgeous presence.
I know I’m still grieving because I think of a lot of things in the mindset of when you die. But Imma say it anyway. When you die, no one is going to give a fuck that the world was oppressive and that was the reason you didn’t find your joy. Your responsibilities took up your day, and that was the reason why you rarely smiled. That all the capitalism, white supremacy and isms were the reason you couldn’t enjoy the silence, the noise, feel the sun and blossom through the darkness. (Though, I get it) But YOU matter so much, it's not even funny. You matter so much that because it ain’t funny, how dare you not take your own joy serious?!
That’s it. That’s the post.
All My Joy,