Joy

“I sometimes forget that I was created for Joy.”

I felt a catch in my breath and a pang in my heart as I heard this first line in Sufi mystic Hafiz’s poem during a guided meditation. Caught off guard by the idea that joy is a birthright, not something that has to be earned, and stung by the thought of what we lose by not remembering this.

Why do we forget?

Hafiz continues,

“My mind is too busy.

My heart is too heavy

For me to remember

That I have been

Called to dance

The sacred dance of life.”

It is so easy to pay more attention to the difficult stuff going on in the world and our personal lives, and in fact, it seems that human brains are wired to do this. We get overwhelmed by sorrow and misery. We feel guilty about our own joy when we see how others suffer. We buy into the notion that suffering and joy cannot co-exist.

Certainly, fresh grief can engulf our emotions so that for a time, we cannot feel our way into joy. There is much to grieve in the news of our day--violence, disease, oppression, neglect and greed--and predictions of the climate collapse still to come--that makes joy seem impossible to imagine.

Joy and grief can coexist, however. The experience of one does not negate the possibility of the other. I would argue, in fact, that remembering joy gives us the courage and the reason to overcome what grieves us. But, joy is not a fleeting emotion we feel only when our lives are perfect. It is an attitude toward life that, like gratitude, must be cultivated. It is a muscle to be strengthened. We find joy by slowing down and paying attention to what we pay attention to. We must seek out stories of beauty and goodness to build our foundation of joy to counterbalance the relentless airing of ugliness and evil.

The poem goes on,

“I was created to smile

To love

To be lifted up

And to lift others up.”

Finding joy is not a selfish act. It creates compassion. It expands us so that we can understand ourselves as agents of joy for others, even alleviating the suffering of others. Not out of some heavy sense of obligation or duty, but out of satisfaction in using one’s gifts for someone else’s benefit and what we give others creates more of our own joy--a gift to ourselves.

Hafiz finishes thus,

“O sacred one

Untangle my feet

From all that ensnares.

Free my soul

That we might

Dance

And that our dancing

Might be contagious.” 

— o —

This poem came to me as a gift from across centuries and continents. Let us all remember that we were created for joy and create stories to inspire joy in those around us.

— o —

Postscript: I believe Daniel Landinsky was the translators of this poem into English, but I have not been able to verify this through online resources. I will update this post when I find out for sure.