Still. Have Joy.

Here, in the U.S. and across the globe the COVID-19 pandemic has illuminated so much, inflicted much hardship, and invited spaces of pain.  For those of us though, who can find the space, and consideration, I want us to question where we can still find joy. 

A couple of weeks ago, I was on a morning run. That week, here in Chicago, we had gotten the mandate that all parks and running trails would be closed. As part of my maintenance of my mental health, a run along the beautiful lake front of Chicago is one of the greatest balms to my soul when it is fret with anxiety.

I started my run, full of frustration, instead of dodging sand, pebbles, and dogs that are frolicking along the beach, I am dodging cars, service vehicles, and delivery trucks. Instead of hearing the sounds of waves crashing along the shore, I am met with horns, and the clitter and clatter of city streets.

As I was musing in my frustration, I remembered a story from one of my favorite ministers. He once shared about one of his parishioners and how years earlier she had -had a stroke.  He goes on to tell the story about how he went to visit her in the hospital – the stroke had been severe, and she had loss the use of right-side of her body.   When he got to the hospital, he expected her to be depressed, frustrated, and angry by the state of her condition.  When he got there, he was surprised to hear a boisterous and joy-filled voice greeting him.  Taken back by her joy, she began to explain, that she was going to use the half of her body that did work, to lift the other half that didn’t work – she went on to speak of having joy, having faith, having resilience in the half she had left.

Many of us are working on half, and I recognize that each of our halves look different – “comparison is the thief of joy” and I would not dare to try to compare one person’s “living on half” to another.  What, I will say though, is again, as we can, as we are able - where like that church parishioner, can we Still. Have Joy.

In this season of “social distancing” I have been more socially connected than ever before.  I have done Zoom nights with family, virtual game nights with friends, laughed as I watched TV virtually with others…have reconnected with communities I have not talked to in years.  I have been more present to those around me and spent moments in reflection without the constant considerations of upcoming travel. I have gotten present to our collective responsibility to give where we can.

Recently, I made a donation to Family Promise  - an organization that is dedicated to helping those with housing and food insecurities. As you are able, I would encourage you to give to those causes that speak to your heart.

I say thank you more to the grocery store clerk, the mail carrier, those who prepare meals at my favorite restaurants.  When this is over, and we get back our “other half” let us, yes, let some things from the difficult season go, but let us also let some things remain. Let gratitude remain, let resilience remain, let faith in one another remain, let love remain.

Until the day we can all gather together at our favorite café, synagogue, temple, church, bar, theater, or running path along the lake in Chicago; let us give voice to our pain, let us honor our anxiety, and as we are able in recognizing the difficulties let us take a moment as we can and look with an unwavering sense of hope that even in the midst of hard times we can still have joy.

Necessary.

Anger, oh it is a powerful tool – and I have found it to be an ineffective emotion to move about the changes I want in my life.  So often, I find myself angry about the same things, with the same people.  For me, I am beginning to see that the anger – the reoccurring anger is just the negative energy/forces, Eckhart Tolle calls it the Ego, others refer to it as the Adversary – whatever the name, that Influence uses the same tools of the past to impact the present.

The source of my anger often roots in the same place, in this case it is my father.  For those who have read my book, I have spoken of him in great detail.  My dad (in my truth) shows up ineffectively ---that is a diplomatic way of saying he shows up as a hot mess.  Throughout my life, I found my father a person difficult for me to hold space for; he has a propensity to be irresponsible with his words, using profanity to refer to his kids, I will never forget when my dad looked me in my eyes at 12 and said he was tired of seeing my f***king face, and was glad he would not have to see my f***king face anymore – we did not speak again for six years after that -to this day, those words linger with me.

To further complement things, my father did little in comparison to most for his kids: emotionally, financially, and spiritually. I suppose now, looking back on it, the spiritually bankrupt can’t afford to pay your debts if they can’t pay their own.   So, the stories of the past, become the anger of the present.

The anger rooted in a frustration with my father that he does not take responsibility for his actions, for a father who avoids the complexity of responding to pain, for a father who is poor (and I don’t mean in the monetary sense), and does little to increase his wealth.  As I write this, I acknowledge the judgmental undertones of what I share, that’s one of my imperfections, and perhaps those who experienced me in that fashion (judgmental) can write their own piece on that – for now, I will continue to speak to my own experience, with the prayer someone else relates, connects, and is able to produce powerful breakthroughs.

So, I was sitting with all this anger, and little access to let it out – all I wanted to do is call my father and unleash a wrath of hate, a wrath of hurt, a wrath of pain; again, as I mentioned anger has does little for me to move forward those things I want to manifest in my life. In the throes of my anger, I got still, very still. I waited for calm to set in, for peace to take residency in my heart, and with time, the small, still, and yes, quiet powerful voice from within said, “Darren, it was necessary.”

My niece and nephews came to my mind, and I thought about how I have never used my tongue to be a weapon to compromise their spirit, to make them question their worth, to make them look upon me with disdain.  I thought about how my mom was a single parent experiencing the financial challenges that many single parents face; thus, I had to get my first job at 14.   I walked to work, day-in and day-out, that experience walking to work at 14, gave me a work ethic that carried me through college, carried me through graduate school, and carries me today as a professor.  I think about my father’s inability to show up as a constructive emotional presence in my life, and how that has informed my practices of: meditating daily, working out on a regular basis, and faithfully engaging in the practice of going to therapy.

The other day, I heard the phrase, “you may not pay what you owe, but you will reap what you sow.”  So as I reap the fruits of working earnestly to use my words for good – and I see that manifest in the loving ways my niece and nephews look at me…when I reap the fruits of going to class to teach (doing the work I love), when I reap the fruits of harnessing my power responsibly through meditation, exercise, and therapy…and yes, in those moments when I am in the dark place of despair known as anger, I say to myself, alas, it was all necessary.

Your Crown is Not Crooked

[Our] throne of destiny is not defined by relationship failures, others' inability to [offer support], or others' unwillingness to offer love. Our throne and our crown are both maintained and [metaphorically] straightened by the power we harness within to move beyond blame and situate ourselves in our own truth. It is when we live in that truth, and take actions accordingly that we see our resentment diminish when others do not meet our expectations.

Excerpt from Chapter 16, The Invitation to Love