The Insistent Message

Saw a play this afternoon. “Ode To Joy” at The Cherry Lane. I have to mention it because a) it wasn’t a perfect play, but it was so wonderfully imperfect that it was a study in itself; b) because my name is Joy and I had this realization that the gift my parents gave me in naming me this is probably their most kind and lasting gift to me; and c) because this blog is about joy and I think of joy lots.

After I left the theater with tears in my eyes, I walked around the West Village feeling so grateful to live in a city where I can walk down the street crying and be completely peaceful in a blanket of solitude and anonymity among so many beautiful (or at least interesting) strangers. I know everyone says this about New York, but it’s one of those things everyone says because it is true.

Both yesterday and today I had conversations with 2 friends that eventually involved the ever illusive self confidence and assuredness that is inextricably tied to joy. One friend is wondering what to do next with her life, and the other is wondering how to feel the brave, freeing vulnerability and openness she experiences onstage as an actor in her everyday life…as herself. Come to think of it, the day before I spoke to the first of these friends, another friend confided in me via text that she’s not sure if she’s ever been happy. I listened to my friends and let them know that I appreciate their sharing such deep things of their hearts with me. I am blessed (or helped) in that.   

So where I am going with this?

I’ve been thinking lots about my Joy List. A Joy List is a list of the things that…you guessed it…bring you joy. If everything is a practice, then joy must certainly be one too. To answer my friend who is wondering about bringing the courage that she possesses when she is onstage to her everyday life, I mentioned that acting in a way is easy because the more you do it, the better you get. It’s an activity so practice is inherent. You almost just have to keep doing it to get better and better. The “almost” is there because classes, training, exposing yourself to proper practices are all also involved. On the other hand, life requires a lot more consciousness than that. Waking up, getting dressed, and going through your daily routine doesn’t necessarily make you better at life. You have to practice at being your best self. But what exactly are you practicing?

And that’s where the Joy List comes in. What are the things in your life that make you better? What are the things that bring you joy?

The more time I spend with this question, the more I realize that the answers aren’t all typical, some of them I have to look a bit harder for and some are just silly, but I don’t question them. If they work, they work.

3 cups of water first thing in the morning is one, connecting weekly in a meaningful way with at least 2 friends, making love, and having one day a week with absolutely no commitments are just a few of mine. I don’t always get that last one, but I know it’s important. Lifting weights, meditating, a glass of wine or beer at home during the week (I canNOT, I repeat CANNOT wait for the weekend to this!), and plain old silly time with my husband and roommate also make this list. These things keep the grease on the wheels. They MAKE IT POSSIBLE for me to be creative, be a better caretaker, wife, and friend.  They make it possible for me to be my best self. They are essential.

The things on My Joy List are not luxuries!

Joy is not a luxury, people! It is your right!  So go on. Start thinking of your Joy List! Take nothing for granted. Notice when you do something that makes you feel completely and utterly free and that gives you an extra push to continue living your life as your best possible self. Whatever it is deserves a place on your Joy List and I promise you there are plenty more where that one came from.

Now back to that play I saw earlier today. Best final line ever: “Joy!! Joy, motherfuckers!! Joy!!”

The way the actress, Kathryn Erbe, delivered that line was full of the perfect amount of urgency and insistence that let anyone listening know that joy is not an option. I think that’s what put the tears in my eyes because honestly, I wasn’t particularly moved up until that point, with the exception of maybe being moved by seeing the actors have fun with and deal superbly with demanding physical work that was excellently timed and well directed.

No, it was the insistence on joy that got me emotional. Why do we think joy is optional?

It reminds me of one of the first poems I loved that I read for the first time when I was 10 or 11 years old, a poem by Nikki Giovanni called “Poetry” in which she describes the role of poetry to both the reader and the poet.

Line by line, she speaks of poetry in everyday life and then in the final lines of the poem she says:

…for it is dead

if it cannot heed the insistent message

that life is precious

which is all we poets

wrapped in our loneliness are trying to say

I was young when I first read it, but something rang in me and I read the poem over and over. The idea that there could be an insistent message that is ever present seemed so mysterious and true to me, and that the insistent message could be “that life is precious” seemed so RIGHT that I couldn’t get over it.

Insistence is somehow connected to an urgency that defies time. The urgency of life and joy are inseparable and inescapable.

Make your Joy List and start practicing it. You have a right to joy. “Joy!! Joy, motherfuckers!! Joy!!!”

IN THE CONTINUUM: Where Are You In The Journey?

I’ve been thinking lots about lineage lately. We’re coming to the end of Black History Month in the states, my birthday is this week, and I recently spent some time with a couple of new babies in addition to my usual work with kids. And not to mention seeing Spike Jonze's latest film, "Her", if you want to talk about the future on another level. So naturally there’s been lots of reflection on past and future.

A friend of mine says that in a village, the most important members are the children and the elders because these groups are both closer to Spirit; further, the job of all the middle aged people in the middle is just to support the children and the elders however we can. The reasoning makes sense, but I’ve never really been sure if I agree with him until recently. For one, what does “closer to Spirit” mean? If we are all one with the Source, the universe, the Divine, God, if you will, how can some of us be “closer” than others? And what do you mean that my “job in the village” is to support the children and elders? I’m pretty sure I have better things to do…like…say, support myself?

With the voices of the ancestors ringing loudly in my ears, with their faces swarming around in my dreams and in my thoughts, little by little I am beginning to understand the amount of perspective that this idea of “supporting the children and elders” brings. For me, this idea is more or less about both laying the ground work for the children to understand the work that must be done in the world, and being a person that allows the elders to transition from this world in peace, somehow knowing that when they leave the work they have done will not have been in vain. Here’s who’s been with me: Audre Lorde, June Jordan, Nina Simone, Gil Scott Heron, and (probably most importantly) my paternal grandmother.

This perspective places me on a continuum. I am grateful for what it tells me about where I am in relation to past and future, and for what it tells me about where I am on my journey.

There are so many things that I have yet to figure out. Not sure if you realized that I haven’t written a blog post in over a month. Giving advice on “joy” hasn’t really seemed quite my speed lately. Every day I know without a doubt how little I know.

That may sound negative, but this acknowledgement has allowed me quite a release. The past few months have been filled with the joy of connection, with both friends and family, deeper intimacy with my husband, and greater acquaintance with my capacity to reach my goals. I am excitedly planning my wedding (yes I’m marrying my husband again-this time in front of friends and family), re-routing my physical health, and looking forward to pursuing a new career path.

Yay for me, but what’s this got to do with you, right? So here’s my joyful finding:

I believe that to experience joy we have to be rooted in a journey. I know many people generally acknowledge that life is a journey, and they usually feel like they’re “going somewhere.” But if you are “going somewhere” that must mean that you are a part of a past and a future, i.e. a continuum.

So that implies there must be others ahead of you and those behind you.

What do you have to offer them? Where are you on your journey? Take a moment (or many moments over time) to put your life in this perspective. Start with the people in your “village” and then widen your scope to think of all the people you don’t know or have yet to meet. What do you have to offer them? How will your spirit greet them?

We all know we won’t be here forever. Wherever you are, be gentle and let joy be a part of your gift.

The Fight For Joy

I decided to do something a little different! Happy Holidays, Joy In The City! Here's to you and your fight for joy. Continue. Continue. Continue. You have what it takes!

Thanks for watching!

The French Connection: Growth Goals and The Gentle Process of Being

Been meaning to talk about this for some time. Having a lazy Sunday in Paris recovering from jetlag, so here’s my moment.

How do you deal with failure?

Sometimes we have a hard time starting a new undertaking because when we have a new idea sometimes all we can see are all the failed attempts of our past.

If you’re anything like me, chances are you have had the experience of starting a project with lots of gutso and somehow losing motivation, interest, or being carried off by something new before you bring it to completion.

Or what about things that aren’t necessarily projects but steps toward self improvement? Don’t you hate it when you start on something to better yourself and you somehow fall off the horse and never get to see that transformation you envisioned?

Sometimes you fall off the horse and get back on and fall off again and get back on, but after that happens so many times, your energy can start feeling depleted and so can your morale. Then you start to hear that voice that says, “What’s the point?” and you get that itch to just throw in the towel.

I’m kind of sick of reading things about this and just hearing the same old “Dust yourself off and try again” messages. There’s something deeper than just having the perseverance/motivation/resilience to start again. I’m sorry, but sometimes your will power just isn’t strong enough to carry you through the pain of past failures.

There must be something more to this than just talking yourself into trying again. 

Case in point:

Here I am in France again and I know that as soon as my husband and I begin to meet up with his friends and family, I’ll be faced with that old language barrier that I hate. I’ve been trying to improve my French since we met 2 years ago. I took it in school, but never used it and now it’s a steady project for me.

It’s tempting to think about the first time I was here a year ago and how intimidated I was with all the quick conversations and nuanced jokes going on around me that I didn’t even speak a word. With the exception of ordering at bakeries and restaurants, I completely relied on him for translation. I didn’t do any of the practicing I planned on. I made a few jokes here and there with his friends, but mostly I felt like a total failure and yet another lazy American visiting a country without speaking the language. Ouch!

So here’s my big realization on this and all other ongoing projects and new undertakings.

If we make perfection the goal, we are unknowingly setting ourselves up for failure.

Sometimes we begin something with this idea in our heads of total transformation. You know how it is, dreamers!

Instead of doing this, why not make growth the goal? If we say to ourselves that we’d like to see this amount of growth in this amount of time, we can celebrate our milestones. We can congratulate ourselves on gradual improvements.

This isn’t to say that we should forget about mastery and transformation, but this is a far more gentle way to approach what is, after all, a lifelong process. The lifelong process is learning. Whatever we are doing, we are learning. When we make growth our goal, when we commit ourselves to process, we can never fail. This, in long term sustains our energy, to continue even through set-backs and to start again if we ever fall off.   

We cannot transform through negative self talk. We must develop the muscle to speak to ourselves in a gentle voice. It is a practice. A great way to start is by making growth your goal, not perfection.

Growth is the never ending process of your life. Commit yourself to that and failure will be irrelevant and whole lot less scary.

I encourage you to add the simple goal of growth to your thought process as the new year approaches. Not perfection, not total transformation, just growth. Sweet, simple, gentle growth.

How do you begin again, Joy In The City readers? What is the secret of your growth process? I’d love your thoughts. As always, thanks for reading.

Check out that leap!!!!!!

 

 

Move! Get Out The Way! Who Gets In the Way of Your Brilliance?

Yesterday, I went to a brunch organized by my friend, Rhonda Khan. She had gathered together a group of “creatives” to share a meal and discuss where we are in our respective creative lives, what challenges we face, and to see how we could support one another in our endeavors.  What a blessing to be invited and to share time and space with such talented, lovely people!

As I was sitting listening to each person share their story, I couldn’t help but be struck by the fact that almost every person present knew exactly what he/she needed to do to get the things they want accomplished. The buzz words like “accountability,” “deadlines,” and “motivational style” flowed freely, and while there were many practical matters discussed, I found myself wondering why we face challenges in doing the things we love, especially when we know exactly what the issues are.

If we have all of this knowledge and self awareness, what’s the problem? Why do we continue to get in our own way? We read the books; we are members of supportive communities; we see art that inspires us; we create things that we believe in; yet, we still feel that something is missing. We still feel as if we lack the motivation to accomplish our goals, we don’t know how to sustain motivation to the fruition of our projects, and we wonder how to organize our lives so that our art is more than just something we do when we’re not working other un-related (sometimes full time) jobs. What’s up with that?!

I realized that the answer lies in something I learned from Dr. Brené Brown. Brené is a storyteller and researcher, who does work around shame and vulnerability. If you are not familiar with her work, check out her groundbreaking TED Talk here. 

Among many things, she says that it is not that we don’t know what to do or what we need, it is that we don’t talk about—and get specific about—the things that get in the way. Until we are specific about “what gets in the way”, we will continue to live in crippling generalizations and quick fixes.

We can talk about what we need to do ad infinitum. But unless we’re getting specific about the root of the matter, we will be taking valuable time from the work and not fostering the energy we need to accomplish our heart’s desires. Isn’t that something? All the things that are meant to help you could actually be draining your energy, unless you are specific about what works for you.

Getting specific about what gets in the way and what works for you is hard. It requires honesty. Honesty requires consciousness. Practicing consciousness is painful. It is a journey that never ends. But I know that the rewards are real.

What gets in your way? What keeps you stuck in your habits? Be gentle as you answer. Honesty does not have to be brutal.

We each have patterns that have dictated our outcomes. What are yours? 

I have become more reflective as we come to the end of the year, as I usually do. I am going into my last week of work before I go spend the holidays in France with my love and his family.

As I reflect, I know how certain challenges make me tremble and send me running for the comfort of my bed or some other handy diversion. These moments are natural. But they cannot be the norm.

I am peeling back a new layer of honesty in hopes that I will become that much more entwined with living my joy.

  

What gets in your way? Be honest. Be specific. Here is a chance for a new beginning.

Feel free to share your thoughts below on what gets in the way or on the NEW JOY IN THE CITY FACEBOOK PAGE. Thank you all for your likes! Keep 'em coming!

  

Heart Work (And Every Little Thing You Do)

It has been a hot minute, Joy in The City Readers. Months have gone by since I wrote you, but, in the words of Celie from The Color Purple to her beloved Nettie, “…always, whatever I am doing, I am writing you.” See, only you serious Color Purple fans out there know that line!

But I digress!

The past few months have been dedicated to lots of heart work. I began a new work schedule, I’ve been knee deep in wedding planning (woot! woot!), I began to interview people for a solo show I am developing (more on that), and I wrote a play that is being workshopped in November!  That ‘writing a play’ thing is huge. It was a long time coming. Finally the story just fell out of me, then came the actors, and now there’s a director, and in November there will be an audience. Dreams do come true.

That may seem to be all external work, but really all of it is heart work.  As a matter of fact, these days the division between external work and internal productivity is feeling more and more non-existent.

You know what heart work is, right? It’s that quiet work that is always going on beneath the surface. For the spiritual among us, it could be called “the prayer that you are always walking.” Or you can call it the dialogue that exists between your mind and your heart, or the work that never really ceases, the commitment to your inner compass...you get the point.

Every bit of work we put into our personal growth, stuff that we don’t usually put on display—things like speaking our truth even when it is scary, journaling, meditating, doing something courageous everyday, being present with our emotions even when they make us uncomfortable—has the potential to grow into a piece of external work that you are proud of.

Seems obvious as all hell, but it isn’t always. I know plenty of people who live this quiet work. Sometimes not much seems to be going on at the surface, but the wheels are always turning. They are dedicated to growth, not to attention, not to the thrill of endless facebook posts (no judgment, but you know what I’m talking about), or creating an image of success. They do the heart work and then sometimes the other stuff follows. 

Today’s post is for those people.

Speaking of those people, a recent piece of the heart work  for me was about creating community. The more I get honest about how things work and don’t work for me, the more I have been able to get honest about my need for a community.

Here’s what happened a few weeks ago.

I was reading a book that was hard for me to process. It was ironic. I understood exactly what the book meant, every word that I read hit close to home. But every time I picked it up, I got knots in my stomach. Soon, I realized what was going on. What I was reading was holding a mirror up that I wasn’t quite ready to look in. It was a tough pill to swallow. But I’ve always believed the adage that the book you are holding is the one you are meant to be reading, so I knew that I couldn’t give up. But it was still so hard!

So I decided to send an email to some women friends, some who I am very close with and have known for years and others that are newer friends that I’d like to establish a deeper relationship with.

I asked for help.

The email told about my journey reading the book and asked if any of them would be willing to accompany me on the ride, as in start a reading circle where we read together and discuss our findings. Almost everyone replied saying that they need something like this in their life and that they would be glad to read the book with me. We begin the circle starting next week. 

It was scary for me to send that email asking for this community, but I did. We have to speak our truth and ask for what we need. Sending that email was a small step. It was scary, but I don’t think it was earth shattering. It was a quiet piece of heart work that has the potential to do so much for the personal growth of all the people involved.

I’m convinced that that’s how lots of things are. Sometimes work is done quietly, and the result is enormous. Sure, a small circle of women reading a book may not be the biggest deal in the world, but I know it can make a world of difference, at least in this corner of the universe.

So there you have it. Heart work. What is your heart work? What small quiet things are you doing to remind your inner voice that you still hear it and that you aren’t afraid to take a risk and answer its call? 

If you listen to this voice long enough, and continue your heart work, whatever it may be, I know unthinkable surprises are bound to happen.

Hey Good Lookin'! (And Other Notes On My Hair, This Strange Microcosm of Myself)

I love wearing my hair natural. Yes. I’m writing about my hair. This is a blog about attaining joy and I believe feeling proud of your appearance is an integral part of that.

My last relaxer (aka hair straightening chemical perm) was when I was 16, and I did the big chop cutting off the rest of my relaxed hair at 17.

That was 11 years ago when I was an outspoken (albeit introverted) teenager who spoke out about Euro-centric notions of beauty whenever I got the chance to express an opinion, related to hair or not.

Wearing my hair natural was a political statement more than a personal declaration of owning my beauty, though that was one of the many claims I made. I generally liked my appearance, but I didn’t consider my hair as a part of that. I thought of it as a fact of who I am, and trained myself to be indifferent, thinking that indifference is at least better than the prevalent dislike or seeming hatred for natural black hair that I was becoming so aware of.

And that is the way it has been until fairly recently. I never really thought of my natural hair as beautiful.

And then something changed.

I had been wearing my hair in long double strand twists for over a little over a year, and then I took them out in July.

And that’s when the change started happening.

Now for the first time in my adult life, I truly LOVE my hair. It strikes me as so much more than just a fact of who I am. I am utterly proud of my kinks, knots, and tightly sprung coils. I love the way it retains shape. I love that because of it I feel more deeply connected to nature and my ancestry.  I find it fun, sexy, and even attractive.

Since I went natural, I have worn my hair buzzed close to my head, in double strand twists (with extensions and without), and mostly I have worn a simple afro of varying lengths, but I have not put any sort of chemical straightener in my hair for all 12 years.

And then last week, I purchased a flat iron and straightened my hair. I was going to 2 weddings (see previous post), and wanted to look different. A part of me was also curious about what my hair would look like straight after all this time. 

I was not prepared for what happened.

During the lead up to straightening my hair, my mind flashed to all the years spent being taken to hairdressers by my mother to perm my hair. I hated it. I hated how my hair burned even if I was careful not to scratch it before my appointment. I hated the various styles that the stylist would put in my hair that made me feel as if I was someone else. And most of all, I hated how my hair was always talked about in degrading terms, as if it was only a problem to be solved.

I got my first relaxer around the time I was 6, so by the time I was a teenager, I was anxious and curious to see what my actual hair looked like. And so I did. It was liberating.

And then I started talking and wouldn’t shut up. I couldn’t stop talking about how absurd it was that most of the women I knew didn’t know what their actual hair looked like. I was mortified at the self-hatred we all seemed to possess related to our natural appearance.

But there I was, only understanding a concept cerebrally but not fully possessing the heart of understanding. It looked like I loved my hair, this strange microcosm of myself, (“Hey! I’m natural, right?!”), but really I didn’t. For one thing, I only did the bare minimum to take care of it. One of the main reasons I went natural was because I didn’t want to care for my hair, which is silly because you actually need to take care of your hair even more as a natural, especially in a market place that largely does not understand natural black hair.   

In the days leading up to straightening my hair, I felt myself become like a protective mother of my hair. I decided to only straighten my hair with the flat iron on a relatively low heat so the final product looked more like a blowout than bone straight permed hair. I just couldn’t bear to alter my hair so drastically, even if it was chemical free.

Over these past weeks I have become acquainted with lots of natural hair blogs, among which CurlyNikki is certainly my favorite. She gave me great guidelines for protective therapy (steps to take to protect natural hair from heat damage before straightening) for my hair before I straightened it. Bloggers like CurlyNikki are true sister champions, guiding women through making the transition to natural hair, offering advice for hair care, and even providing a forum for speaking about psychological trauma related to our hair.

It was through reading these blogs that I became inspired to be as fierce about taking care of my hair as I am about taking care of other parts of my being; not just as an act of necessary maintenance, as I usually do, but as an act of love-- more than just a mere fact of my being, more than just an intellectual concept, but as a sexy, interesting, fun, and attractive, part of my appearance.

This morning I moisturized my hair with unrefined shea butter and put it in protective leave in style of “flat” twists. When I started writing this entry, I was in a coffee shop. When I walked into the relatively small coffee shop, I was immediately blown away by the beauty of 2 other natural sisters with leave in do’s. Crowns of braids and bantu knots. I was struck by the beauty of our 3 different hair types. So healthy and natural. I silently toasted us and joyfully began this blog.

What is your journey with self acceptance in regard to your appearance? Is there something about how you look that you secretly hate? Let that go. Find a new way to love every aspect of how you look, whatever that may mean for you.

Believe me, you are a part of the world’s endless beauty. And on this clear summer day, with the wind whispering the secrets of autumn, I can see your beauty all the way from over here.

 Shortly after I took out my twists:

 

And this is me today smiling at you: