Restless, reckless, and reflective | Is joy supposed to be so messy?

Welcome Back To Paradise - Today We’re Potentially Over-Analyzing Life Again. You In?

If you’ve been following along, you already know I’ve been following a recent intention to explore and invite joy in my life in the same ways I’ve done with sadness for years.

Healing from my childhood, rape, and miscarriages meant getting really close and personal with sadness- letting it in and learning from it. There’s serious magic in facing the feelings, letting them in, and letting them flow on when the time comes…

But for me, there’s also a risk of allowing emotions to move all the way in and stay a decade or so…

And that’s what I realized was going on with sadness after the lessons were learned and the feeling stuck around anyway. I was devoted to it, feeding it and welcoming it back in day after day. That’s why I finally flipped the switch and decided to explore the opposite- joy.

It can be difficult to open up to joy, which is something I think a lot of people have a hard time understanding. It makes sense though- once you do allow something amazing in, you don’t want to lose it… and what if you let yourself want something, only to find out you can’t have it?

It’s easy to poke holes in that from a logical perspective, but deeper beliefs beneath the surface still lead to a lot of self-sabotage in this area for a lot of people.

Before 2020, it was a real challenge for me to open up and let joy in.

Like, I’d actually panic and cry. It was that difficult. I felt raw, vulnerable, exposed. I wanted my blanket of sadness for protection against any possible disappointment. What if I found joy, lost it, and then couldn’t ever find it again? Is it really better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all? (I still think yes… but sometimes my fear gets me to reconsider for a moment. Those moments are hard, that’s what I’m talking about.)

Now it’s a bit easier to let joy in, but I still feel naked. I half expect my heart to be crushed every day, and I find myself breathing through a string of it’s-okay-it’s-okay-it’s-okay-it’s-okay’s more often than I can count.

I’m showing myself grace with reminders that, in just a few short weeks, I’ve broken free of a 10 year relationship, opened Raped, Not Ruined for pre-orders to the public, and taken a roller coaster of love and ethics in my personal life…

Of course I am feeling worn out, emotionally. I’m nervous about this commitment to explore joy… Is it supposed to be so messy? Am I still supposed to feel so raw and vulnerable in the light?

I’ve Come To The Conclusion That Joy Is The Most Thrilling Flirt- But Is Put Off By The Silent, Gentle Reflection I Love So Much.

I hope this lesson keeps unfolding, because right now I don’t have the slightest clue what to do with that conclusion! I don’t like it yet.

I want to know a joy that is compatible with peace.

I’ve been looking for a home for such a long time, and now that I found what feels so right in my soul… things keep coming up and flustering my too-fragile sense of peace. I found a routine that made it all so simple and easy, it flowed beautifully… and then my marriage ending started my routine on yet another roller coaster. I know I’ll find my balance, but it’s not lost on me the lack of stability in my life despite all I did to try to make this new start a steady one.

I’m not at peace this week. I find myself flipping back and forth a lot- black and white, all or nothing… Restless and reckless and reflective… and I’m not sure I even want to help it.

What If My Joy Thrives In That Silent, Empty Space Between Breaths? (Hint: It Does… I Know It Does.)

I want more of what takes me there… to the long steady exhale that fills my cup to overflowing. I want to feel strong in who I am, not like this tiny little bird in the pacific winter winds. I want to stop aching for a stronger set of wings to show me what I’m capable of. I want to wake myself up.

I miss my balance… I love my black and white… I love exploring the gray areas too. I want to stay strong and gentle. I want to make the wrongs right- and have the heart to forgive myself for the things that can’t be changed, rather than drowning in shame for a long-gone version of me who didn’t know any better.

Here’s to some peace in next week’s blog. Today, this is what I have to give. I hope it helps.

Written for us both to look back and smile on someday.

Yours,
Jessica