Bursts of intense joy are not unusual in me, although I confess; I don’t give them many chances to become visible. I tend to guard them as a precious secret. Something in me resists to expose them to ridicule.
They are owned by the child that believes in magic and wonder. The young soul whose trust in life and people is bathed in light and appreciation for the uncanny and our humanity. One that has seen itself as an outcast for too long…
I seem to be impregnated by a boisterous spontaneity that chooses to sing and dance, leap and embrace the moment, hug and kiss freely. It is not discretion or politeness that it defies, on the contrary; it definitely comes from a place of love and respect. Nevertheless, it can choose to act unaware of, or despite of “labels, rules and politics.”
Personally, I take stance with every bit of my humanity. My body is as expressive as my thinking. It can be a very funny thing to watch. I might probably make as many faces and body choreographies when talking, as I do when performing. Reason why I don’t like watching/recording myself? I don’t want to give myself the chance to judge the “appearance” of the emotions or thoughts behind the expression, because I do trust the genuine voice it engages, that of my soul. I learned how to silence it though. Terrifying!
As an immigrant moving around cultures, and an alien in my own, I know how constraining and deflating criticism can be. I’ve allowed too many times, its poison to tame my spirit and sabotage my vitality, to cut my wings and drain my soul. Worst of all, in uncountable occasions, I have been the one not only drinking the poison but administering it.
Contentment, pure and simple doesn’t die. It might become quieter. Thus, it whisper and tiptoes, like curiosity behind a door. However, when wonder hits; the dragon goes lose. It’s easier if I am among certain friends (or alone) to give myself permission to enact joy, love, awe! If this is not the case, I shut myself down. I stop in my tracks before allowing the energy to flow.
It might be the belief that those things triggering joy and wonder in me, are not usual triggers among my peers. Sometimes I just smile to myself and revert to whatever I was doing. Nonetheless, I have indulged myself into defiance now and then….
Snow and landscapes are powerful triggers for me. I like taking a walk down to a park and golf course with trees and mischievous squirrels and birds that make my heart laugh. This particular beautiful winter morning, the field was covered in an incredible white velvet blanket, fluffy and deep enough for me to paint my feelings on its delightful surface. Irresistible!
After making sure no one was looking, I began dancing and sketching circles with my feet. My hands pointed to the sky where my eyes and soul followed the music of ancestral memories, I didn’t know I had; and my body, freed of the constraints of labels and judgment; saw every circle as an opportunity to choreograph and sing to the beauty of my surroundings, the aliveness and courage of my spirit and my auduacious ignorance.
It was a delightful experience, one that honored my inner child, and with it, the flow of life.
How many times, we make JOY the slave of a misunderstood “propriety’? How log until we claim back our power and an identity grounded in what makes us beautiful and imperfectly perfectly, us?
I know I have wasted precious moments of joy and infinity love, for fear of disturbing a precarious safety, that is nothing but the need for validation.
As a new time unfolds, unexplored and virgin; I pledge on those moments of eternity freely offered to me, to light my path into a life focused on joy and wonder. For meaning and fulfillment bloom in soils of openness and allowance; enriched by experiences and boldness, and watered with the awareness of the abundance and magnificence surrounding life.
Image Credit Photo by Tim Gouw from Pexels
