Let joy pull you back into the dance

What would we ask of joy if we had her undivided attention?

Hello friends,

In the summer of 2022 I joined a group of friends on a sailboat we hired for a week of sailing on the Adriatic Sea in Croatia. My ex was not with us, by design. By then I had a firm knowing that this would be our last summer as a married couple and I was just weeks away from initiating our divorce. In the writing and meditation course called “The Practice” led by

Laura McKowen

, a prompt was to write a letter to joy. What would we ask of Joy if we had her undivided attention?

I recently came across this letter to Joy as I visit dear friends this spring, a long-married and happy couple, whose relationship fills me with joy for them but also envy and a kind of wistfulness. I remember being on the top deck of the boat in Croatia, watching the couples dance, knowing I was about to end something that would set me adrift, on a journey I could only make alone. Two years later, I find that I am more firmly anchored in myself than I ever thought possible. Yet there are times when the stars fill the night sky and I wonder—what does joy have in store for me now?

Dear Joy,

You are asking me to look. To really look. To look at what has always been there and will always be there: enough love, for me and from me, unconditionally, to weather the worst of storms.

Amy, you say gently, Look at where you sit at this very moment, blessed woman, in the middle of the Adriatic Sea in Croatia, on this week-long cruise, surrounded by friends who have known you and loved you for years and years and will never stop loving you--no matter what.

These friends are there to cushion your falls and lift you up and yes, to awaken your joy, like last night, when they pulled you onto the dance floor on the top deck of the ship to sway to "Dancing in the Moonlight." They would not let you leave to go to your cabin. They could read the melancholy on your face as you watched the couples dance, and they took your hand and invited joy. And I am glad they did, because there you sat, watching these couples in their 50s and 60s, with their long loves, and you felt your tenuous grasp on joy slipping away.

I am asking you not to lose hope, to remember that there is enough love to go around. Unbridled joy, uncomplicated joy, childlike joy, is still in the cards for you, when this season of sadness has ended, as it inevitably will.  Joy will be ready to pull you back into the dance, under the stars, in the moonlight as you embrace freedom: the freedom that you seized even at the price of the pain, yours and his, that it demanded. 

Really, is there any other way to be free?

Doesn't it always mean that something must be given up, so that something better—more vital—can take its place?

Joy, you have been elusive to me this spring and summer, as I search deeply within myself for the answers, but I know you're there, reminding me that we only have one lifetime and it is not nearly long enough.

So, I choose joy. I choose love. I choose joy and love over sadness, grief, and regret. I honor the yearning that lays coiled inside me, waiting to be released.

It is time to let go and dance for joy.

Three Songs for 3-D

Divorce

“Dancing in the Moonlight,” King Harvest

You can't dance and stay uptight
It's a supernatural delight
Everybody was dancin' in the moonlight

Dementia

“Songbird,” Fleetwood Mac

And I wish you all the love in the world
But most of all, I wish it from myself

And the songbirds keep singing
Like they know the score
And I love you, I love you, I love you
Like never before

Destiny

“Don’t Waste Your Time,” Beautiful Chorus

Don't you let it, get in the way, of your love, of your joy, of your prosperity, of your abundance, of your peace... Don't waste your time. Go get your love, your joy, your peace, you don't have to worry.

Questions for the comments: What brings you joy and what songs make you get up and dance with joy?