A Case for Joy

Especially when it's really effin' hard

Listen to me read this post:

Hello friends,

Though I didn’t realize it while watching my dog surreptitiously steal squid bate from local crab fisherman on our walk this week, I needed to be reminded of joy.

That stinky, slimy squid that she gobbled with the kind of enthusiasm that only accompanies flagrant rule-breaking would have us both up at 3 a.m. and again at 4 a.m. standing in the backyard, her: chewing grass to quell whatever violence was occurring in her stomach and me: annoyed and exhausted. It was no use scrambling to stop her because this would only lead to her favorite game: You Chase Me.

Instead, I accepted my 3 a.m. fate and strolled while listening to Jessica Lanyadoo’s latest astrology forecast. I was looking to the stars for some ground in navigating the nightmare we find ourselves in. Like so many, I‘ve been riddled with anger, anxiety, and fear. I didn’t want to be on a walk. I didn’t want to be chastising my willful dog. I didn’t want to be doing anything at all, and this flatness felt indulgent. Perhaps the luminaries could rouse my energy by offering hope and perspective?

It was a Tweet (or whatever they’re calling them these days) that Lanyadoo read, from

Drop Site News

‘s Jeremy Scahill, that unexpectedly lit something within me. As I listened, rage and inspiration, a confluence of feelings hitherto inexperienced, colored my being.

Prohibited from expressing joy?
What’s more, prohibited from expressing joy in their own homes?

My dog scampered with abandon as I tried to wrap my mind around this reality. Though admittedly unclear about the conditions for Palestinian captives, I’m going to assume they’re not great. What would it be not to know your fate? To wonder whether you would see your friends and loved ones again? To question who was alive and what, if anything, was still standing?

What could be more human than feeling relief upon release? What would be more appropriate than yelling, sobbing, dropping to one’s knees, celebrating the free air and sky; rejoicing at being miraculously reunited with life?

Lanyadoo continued,

“It is really important for us to understand the barbarity of the governance of the state of Israel, AND it is really important for us to have evidence of the power of JOY. “

Joy as Power

Inspiration and rage remind me of Krumping, a style of movement born in South Central Los Angeles during the height of gang and police violence. Blending hip hop and African dance, young men Krump to metabolize loss, grief, and anger.

Watching Krumping co-founder Jo’Artis Ratti dance in front of police during the George Floyd protests, I noticed fear in my own body. At any moment, I was sure the 10 or so armed white men watching him would pounce, provoked by too much strength, too much self-possession, too much anger for a Black body to display. Ratti danced with power, emotion, and intensity. Layers of loss and injustice came forth through his movement, which demanded, “You will bear witness. You will see me. You will see what you have done.”

More than a dance, Krumping is a reclamation of what systems of oppression take from us. In our dance is our agency, authority, and potency. It is also how we contend with unfathomable despair.

“How else do we cry at the grotesque,” Ratti asks. “When it’s bigger than you?”

The Friday after the election, I came together with women I have danced with for years. Wordlessly, we hugged, cried, and moved our bodies. The bonds we had already formed from week after week of dancing and sweating together rooted into something even more profound. We didn’t need to convey our horror; we could feel it within our collective, but we could also feel more than this. We were not alone. In our shared complexity, there was also the power of joy. Being together, free to express how we were called to express, was the key to hope.

There is power in people coming together and expressing their own liberation. This expression does not require that we swallow our rage or tamp down our grief; the expansive power of joy helps us make room for it all.

I used to think joy and happiness were synonymous. But joy isn’t just smiles and laughter, it is the embodiment of expansion. With it, we tap our capacity to be with more. Joy helps us hold and metabolize immensities that only it has the capacity for.

Joy as Connective Tissue

I’ve been thinking about Enrique Tarrio, the proud boy who Trump recently pardoned. I don’t typically follow the goings-on of white supremacist groups, but what caught my attention was his name. Enrique does not sound like a white boy. And in fact, a little research easily pointed out his Afro-Cuban roots.

What must be operating inside of someone for them to eschew their own racial identity and seek not just belonging but leadership of an organization that actively considers you and others of your race inferior? I tumbled down the rabbit hole, surfacing photos of Tarrio, megaphone in hand, marching with his white “brothers.” In one picture, Tarrio leads this smiling collective of ne’er-do-wells, arms wrapped around him, giant white palms resting on his shoulders as he eagerly looks to the horizon.

It’s hard not to interpret this external scene as representative of Tarrio’s own internal structure. Hate is a connective tissue. It bands even the most unlikely of allies together. In hate, there is heat and solidity. There is fixity in its distancing from the obscene other, even when that other is you.

I’ve always felt a fundamental irrationality to hate. Why spend so much precious energy on the abhorrent? Does this not give it more power? But, I suppose, if one’s occupied with looking out, they’re not concerned with looking in. This is why narratives of supremacy are so impossible to dismantle. Those who hold them will go to the mat protecting the flimsy thread that strings their world together. Some part of their psyche must know that once it’s pulled, it all unravels.

In the few days that Trump has been in office, I’ve received an increase in hate emails. These messages at one time bothered me. Now, I’m bemused that someone wasted their time writing to me. In hopes of what, I question? They’d ruin my day? Convince me of their delusion? After the first sentence, it’s a quick delete.

How do we move in an increased atmosphere of hate? Hating right back is too easy, and ultimately too hard.

Joy is also a connective tissue.

We meet hate’s heat and fixity with the expansion and fierce welcoming of joy. In joy, we stand for life and proclaim our shared humanity.

I’m thinking about the Gaia one-day choirs’s gathering to sing in abandoned basements:

I’m thinking about the thousands who gathered in Berlin last year with hands clasped and rainbow unicorn signs protesting far-right extremism. And the many thousands who again gathered this month singing:

Stand firm together
Stand firm together
Defend Yourself
Resist

I’m thinking about Daybreaker, ecstatic dance, community yoga, sound baths, fun runs, chocolate festivals, marches and all the myriad ways we unite for purpose and for joy.

When Desmond Tutu and the Dalai Lama came together to write The Book of Joy, they highlighted eight pillars that this feeling engenders: perspective, humility, humor, acceptance, forgiveness, gratitude, compassion, and generosity.

“Discovering joy does not, I’m sorry to say…save us from the inevitability of hardship and heartbreak. In fact, we may cry more easily, but we will laugh more easily, too. Perhaps we are just more alive. Yet, as we discover more joy, we can face suffering in a way that ennobles rather than embitters. We have hardship without becoming hard. We have heartbreak without being broken.”
-Archbishop Desmond Tutu

Joy as Practice

Recently, when asked to list 10 ways I access joy, I found myself scratching my head after the first three. How is it that something that came so naturally to me as a child, now passes through the filter of duty and responsibility. Reading for pleasure becomes reading for “self help.” Dancing for joy becomes dancing to stay fit. Even my creative impulses became about “growing my audience.”

In the age of late-stage capitalism who is taught to embrace joy with abandon? Joy for joy’s sake?

Then I flashed on my dog, a guru in this specific way. Her daily priorities rank somewhere along: 1) Eat, 2) Play, 3) Sleep, 4) Cuddle. And though, yes, I am annoyed by her reckless beach behavior, I can’t help but also feel somewhat tickled by her unapologetic zeal for chasing life.

I imagined my dog vigorously shaking her head with her latest squid “kill,” and I made my own joy list.

1. Reading a book for pleasure

2. Take a solo retreat

3. Baking

4. Wandering in a bookstore

5. Fresh Flowers

6. Ordering In

7. Going to see art (dance, gallery, etc.)

8. A long shower

9. Laying on the grass

10. Dancing

11. Singing with others

12. Being deeply listened to

13. Watching a rainstorm

14. Sound baths

15. Knowing the native flora and fauna

Joy is not easy, and some days it’s a lot harder than others. But, when we make joy a practice, we ask ourselves, what is the future I want to live into?

I’ve posted this list by my computer so that I can remember. There are options. This world that feels dark is not without hope. The draconian agenda we’re experiencing is not the only truth. I choose joy to better process heartbreak. I choose joy to be in the radical practice of taking up more space in affirmation of life. These days, that feels about right.

You’ve seen my list, I’d love to see yours.

With joy,

Kelsey

---

What’s Coming Up

Inner Compass: Feb. 10 - March 3rd

What: A 4-week course + 30 days of supported practice to help you refine or establish a regular somatic and ancestor-honoring practice.

Who: This course is designed for individuals of all gender identities, racial backgrounds, and body types who appreciate the transformative potential of embodied and spiritual practices. We welcome anyone seeking support, guidance, and a community dedicated to cultivating a consistent practice.

When: Feb. 10 - March 3, 120-minute live teaching every Monday via zoom at 4 p.m PT/ 7 p.m. ET (Yes, classes are recorded!)

Why: For mental, spiritual and embodied wellbeing and to be supported in grounding in vision and possibility inside the many collective challenges we face.

What else: Access to class forum for calls, resources and community connection.

How Much: $195-$395 sliding scale

---

Now Enrolling New 1:1 Clients

What I most desire for my 1:1 clients is that our work brings you more deeply into relationship with yourself. As a guide and coach, I focus my somatic seeing on what’s getting in the way.

This means our time together is both deeply personal and often addresses the impacts of systems designed to keep us from claiming what inherently belongs to us.

I’m excited that in 2025, i’m bringing more astrological insight into my somatic work. This means that in addition to supporting clients with tools for accessing and trusting the wisdom of the body, our sessions will also bring the insights of your natal chart into grounded practice.

This feels incredibly important as we are all in discovery of how to live out our callings within the context of a world in crisis.

We’ll explore things like:

• How to recognize and follow the signs life and your body are sending

• The gifts of your chart and how to honor them in your life and work

• Marrying the wisdom of your embodied knowing with the insights of your chart in relationship, career, partnership, family and home.

You can learn more and sign up for a free consultation here.