We’re probably familiar with joy as self-care or the positive mental health and even physical health benefits of joy & laughter. 

But how often do we talk about JOY as an intentional and necessary part of our work and missions? 

The world feels increasingly apocalyptic as we turn on the news and see multiple forms of climate, political, and climate crises unfolding around us. It’s relentless. 

And yet, I’m always stunned at the images I see of laughter, smiles, and joy even in the most dire conditions. 

I don’t say this to over-simplify the notion of practicing joy in catastrophe. When I think back to my darkest days, a period of several years where I battled mental health struggles and navigated external hardships, one of my most striking memories I have is driving in the car and being suddenly struck by an alarming thought: “I can’t remember the last time I laughed. I don’t even remember what my laugh sounds like.” 

In those days, I don’t think I could have forced a chuckle if I wanted to. If you can relate or feel this way even now, big hugs and love to you. It’s hard. I know. 

That weightier memory is juxtaposed against a storehouse full of much lighter ones in my story bank. I LOVE to laugh. And I have many moments when I’ve been at work or school where I really should NOT have laughed in those moments, but I can’t say I have EVER regretted a laughter-induced belly ache. 

Ok, so the ONE TIME that I border on regret is when one of my students, a good-humored guy named Andres, was giving his year-end final speech in class. Worth a ton of points in the gradebook. A unique combination of Andres’ affability, aloofness, unshakeable confidence, an odd sense of obliviousness, and absolute TRAIN WRECK at the beginning of his speech… friend, could NOT get it together! He started and stopped 3 or 4 times, trying to find his wording and as the supportive community that we were, we sat in suspense energetically sending him big love and cheering him silently on. But as the mistarts escalated to the 5th and 6th attempt, we witnessed something unexpected. 

Andres’ unwavering confidence and steady voice were both unexpected and comical as he repeated the same damn phrases in multiple iterations searching for his next line. He was fumbling LIKE A SUPERSTAR. Like a seasoned comedian at home on the stage, we let our guards down. Andres didn’t need us. We needed him. By the eighth false start WE WERE DONE. He sent the whole class into a fit of laughter and I was the worst offender. I had to step out of the room to catch my breath. I know, I know. This sounds terrible. I can hear the shame auditors coming in with their clipboards and pens. 

What you have to understand is that this moment happened at the end of the school year inside a classroom FILLED WITH LOVE & LAUGHTER. Where I daily demonstrated laughing at myself, not taking myself too seriously. Allowing my students to SEE my own learning process and efforts. Where we built a truly supportive community. 

In a year of police brutality hitting closer and closer to home, we walked tearful moments, contemplative moments, passionate moments, and light-hearted moments all together. In my junior literature classes, we dug DEEP into the human experience year after year and we did so as a family. Ask my students if you don’t believe me. (You can read some of their words here on my wall of love.)

In this particular belly laugh, Andres laughed with us. And we cheered him fervently when he got his train on track and finished off his speech strong. He passed his final and the class with flying colors. 

One thing I know about that moment, Andres didn’t have to guess what his audience was feeling. We were truly all sharing the same moment on the same journey in that span of 5 minutes. And it was JOYFUL.

If your worst fear is getting up to speak in front of a room full of people and have them laugh in your face, I encourage you to reframe it. What if we all just shared a much-needed belly laugh together? 

It takes cultivation to get to that moment. In this story, the audience was a safe space. In many of my speaking experiences and in the work I do now, the audience isn’t so familiar or supportive. 

But this is what I know about getting ready to take the stage in front of strangers: It’s 100% easier when you’ve cultivated your voice inside a safe community, re-programmed your nervous system to expect safety every time you speak, when the confidence you have in your voice has been developed into a strong muscle, and when you bring a story-bank full of joyful moments with you everywhere you go. So even when the nerves hit and your hands shake, the cells of your body remember the energy and love you felt that last time when you spoke and you were cheered on. And you landed the plane without a bump, no matter how shaky your take off was. 

I’m SO EXCITED to be creating this kind of loving community again and to help folks cultivate their voice & visions. I can say, my work is truly filled with JOY. It feels radical to spend my time in creativity, healing, empowerment, community-building, and joyful moments.