Card of the Day: Ten of Cups

True joy is our birthright. And if we’ve done any kind of spiritual work or just paid deep attention to our life, we know that true joy doesn’t come without sorrow and grief. You can’t block out one and feel the other. Which is helpful for me to remind myself because it’s amazing the extent to which I’ll use everything from high drama to low-grade anxiety to keep me from feeling either one of these.

I’m still getting used to joy. It feels wonderful and also scary. Brene Brown gave an amazing talk about how joy is the most vulnerable of emotions. And the lengths we’ll go to to ensure that we’re in control of the smack that comes from the Universe when we get too happy. Too open and tender. We’ll protect ourselves from heartbreak by making ourselves hard and miserable, spinning possible catastrophes, sabotaging ourselves, or even just keeping ourselves busy.

I’m not sure how important it is to understand why unhappiness becomes a habit and joy can feel like a dangerous invader. I mean, at a super-basic level, letting in joy lets the harder feelings in, too. And who the hell wants to feel grief? I do, actually. (I mean, I also truly don’t...) As much as I try to avoid it, I know it’s a necessary ingredient to having a whole life. A true life. It waits for me like a shy wild animal. Waiting for me to be quiet and settled and open. Waiting for me to be willing. And then it crawls into my lap, looking up at me with wild eyes, needing tending to.

It’s funny because joy often approaches in just the same way. I am learning to be willing by practicing being willing, which includes noticing when I’m not willing and letting that be what it is, too. Gentle, gentle, gentle.