In this time of Covid, amidst the loss, the sorrow and the hurt, we can share our stories and in doing so, share our humanness, with compassion and gratitude. And maybe, just maybe, feel that profound connection to a bigger picture – be it God, be it the universe, be it spirit – through joy. Know that you are never alone.
I remember twirling on the grass, still dressed in a cotton nighty that floated out in a circle around me, as the sun rose slowly turning the sky purple and then pink. There were the two of us, my cousin and I, dancing in the dawn. We spun around and around until we could do it no longer, falling in the cut grass, giggling as the sky dipped this way and that. It was in that moment that I – at eight-years-old – first understood joy.
It was a long time before I felt that peace, that reverence again.
I was 33 when I found myself in a hospital looking through a glass pane and into a tiny incubator at the smallest scrap of humanity, I have ever seen. It was my daughter, born two months early but with a will to survive. My hands spread out on the glass as I stared at my daughter’s tufts of deep brown hair escaping from the swaddling wrapped around her. How I longed to pick her up, hold onto her, tell her I loved her. Tears poured down my cheeks. And in that moment, I once again felt the power of joy.
Profound gratitude
This time the feeling of reverence came with a profound gratitude. After five years of struggling to conceive and three miscarriages, my adopted daughter had announced her arrival in my life, a gift beyond comprehension.
I have been blessed to feel the power of joy many times since then: the arrival of my son, my husband’s release from hospital after a heart operation, unexpected visits from friends, a longed-for and hard-earned holiday with family.
But what I have realised over the years is that, other than that first pristine experience of joy, all the other moments arrived like the rainbow after a thunderstorm – you don’t always see it but when you do it has the power to stop you in your tracks, even if it is just for a moment.
For me, joy always arrives unexpectedly after long periods of deep sorrow, even despair.
In the last year, since the start of Covid-19, my husband has passed away and I have lost my home and my work. There have been many dark and difficult days, and yet if I risk opening my heart, there is pain, there is sorrow, even deep and embarrassing anger, but there is also joy.
People have come into my life when I’ve most needed them, to offer therapy, to offer legal advice, to offer financial support and most importantly, to offer friendship. And in the moments, I stop to reflect on all of this, there are the glimpses of joy – what this year has shown me is that behind joy lies the hand of the Divine.
Jennifer Tennant
alstarlife.blog 