Why Not Joy?

Spent time with these cuties this weekend!


Why write poems about joy in such a time as this?

This has been a constant question in the back of my mind. It is not something anyone has asked of me personally, but something that the subconscious, always overthinking part of my brain asks when it wishes to second-guess itself. And, in the rebuke of these thoughts, I answer:

“Why not joy?”

I do not mean always being happy when discussing cultivating a spirit of joy. No one is always joyful in the basic sense of the word. I do not mean toxic positivity or whatever that’s supposed to mean.

In the same way that we embrace anger, grief, and frustration (which are normal and have their place), we can also embrace more joy and gratitude. If sadness and depression suck our bones dry and drain our life force, then joy and gratitude can be a powerful life-saving nourishment.

As I’ve said in Black Joy: “Nobody talks about society’s addiction to Black trauma / how much more profitable it is to talk about pain than poems/depression than joy.”

This constant cycle of death and war is draining to the soul and rotten to the bones. Where do we find or hold onto our sanity without joy? Have we forgotten that it has always been here with us? If enslaved people found joy, why not us? Or do we believe we are that special of a generation that we can survive without it?

In “The Role of Joy and Imagination in a Revolution,” author Marii Herlinger writes: “White supremacy culture values objectivity, overworking, and neglecting self-care — joy interrupts that. White supremacy culture teaches us to be individualistic, self-serving, and distrustful of each other — love interrupts that. Therefore, joy, imagination and love are revolutionary tools which actively defy capitalism and white supremacy.”

Sounds like a page out of Tricia Hersey’s book!

Speaking of Hersey, in the same way that resting more does not make one lazy, nor is it the same thing as being idle (you can be well-rested and still do the work), more joy does not make one blind to the atrocities of the world. On the contrary, it can help one to see things more clearly by stepping outside of the chaos. As Jaiya John puts it, “It can be a revolutionary act of love for yourself and others to not let yourself be sped up by the pace of a toxic, anxious, frantic, desperate, traumatized culture. Stay slow, my friend. Everything beautiful in you is gestating.”

This year, our poetry contest theme is joy, so I want to give you more to consider as you pen your entry!

The Latin word for Joy is gaudium, meaning to rejoice. Think of a time when you found joy in the unexpected. How did that make you feel? In what ways did you rejoice?

I cannot wait to read/hear your masterpiece!

We accept entries from October 21st through December 1st!

PS. I just found out this blog has been listed among Feedspot’s 30 Best Self-Help Book Blogs and Websites of 2024! Thank ya’ll for rocking with me!

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Yecheilyah

Writing to restore Black historical truth through fiction, nonfiction, and poetry.

12 thoughts on “Why Not Joy?”

  1. Joy exists only by courtesy of its opposite. If all was joy then the experience itself would be meaningless. Just as the experience of sorrow would have no meaning but for the experience of joy. Both must exist together or not at all.

    “I overslept last Monday
    I missed the morning train
    And now, a few days later
    It’s happened once again
    But it’s really not a problem
    Because I haven’t got a job
    I’m unemployed and lazy
    It is so great to be a slob
    My girlfriend doesn’t think so
    When there’s so much stuff to buy
    And so she left this morning
    And found another guy
    I thought I’d miss her cooking
    And all the sex, I s’pose
    But I’ve found them both unlimited
    On television shows
    The weather’s been horrendous
    It’s been pouring for a week
    But tomorrow might be sunny
    ‘Cause tomorrow is unique
    I’m tired now it’s bedtime
    So tired I might be dead
    Not sure if I can make it
    To the safety of my bed
    I got up late and missed the train
    My life then turned to shit
    But as soon as I accepted life
    It didn’t hurt a bit
    So what a horrid day it’s been
    But what a lot of fun
    I’m sorry that it had to end
    But overjoyed it’s done”

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