By Jennifer Kemnitz
I work in retail and can feel it coming from customers from Memorial Day to Labor Day. The pressure to experience joy – unreasonable amounts of joy that they think everyone else is having. These customers are on vacation and they’re not sure, yet, if they’re having enough fun. They have that desperate look. I’ve caught myself feeling and probably looking the same, at times, as I try to make the struggle and the stress of life worth it.
Part of the uncertainty of life, of course, is that even joy isn’t straightforward. My joy can arise from sorrow. My sorrow from joy. It’s odd and strangely freeing to recognize that, in the end, joy is inextricable from sorrow since joy follows sorrow follows joy, ad infinitum. Every microsecond, the particles that make up our universe are popping in and out of existence. There’s no way to predict where they’ll materialize or when, but we do know our attention affects them, somehow. So, I try not to think I have to understand what’s going on, I just try to find the joy in being alive in as many moments as possible. Even on vacation.
There’s a story from the Chinese related by Alan Watts called something like “Maybe So, Maybe Not, We’ll See.” In the story, a farmer’s horse runs off and his neighbors call this bad luck, but the farmer says, “Maybe.” The next day, the horse returns with seven wild horses, which would seem like good luck, but the farmer still takes a wait-and-see attitude. Then the farmer’s son tries to tame one of the wild horses and breaks his leg, and the neighbors reverse their decision again, citing all of this as bad luck, but the farmer says, again, “Maybe.” The next day, government officials come to the village to draft young people for the army, but they can’t conscript the farmer’s son due to his broken leg. Now the neighbors all agree it’s good luck, but the farmer remains noncommittal.
None of this is to say that we’re foolish to celebrate life’s happy moments and bemoan its sad ones. Experiencing and working through emotions is the only way to truly grow and heal. But this world is crazy-complicated, and it’s freeing to realize we aren’t in control. There’s joy in just being here and showing up with as open a heart as possible. So often, showing up with an open heart for others is what helps us heal our own.
There’s joy in sharing grief and hard emotions, too—the joy of connection, the gift of one’s time and attention. The gift is passed around and its motion is a beautiful weaving of energies from person to person. I like to think about my own responsibility in that web, to be grateful for what I’ve received and mindful to keep the bounty moving and increasing by passing it on. I may not be able to summon joy at will on holiday – or in any one moment – but I trust that I can find someone to share it with me when I’m in need.
BIO: Jennifer Kemnitz’s work has appeared in CALYX, Pilgrimage Magazine, Cirque, and Rain,and has been anthologized in Listening to Poetry: An Introduction for Readers and Writers by Chemeketa Press. She served as Managing Editor of VoiceCatcher and is currently living the dream promoting the printed word at Powell’s City of Books.
