Joy as Resistance
In today’s world pursuing joy feels at times irresponsible, and even insensitive, there are people who are homeless, people who have lost jobs and paychecks due to the government shutdown, so for me to acknowledge the joy in my life feels wrong, but it isn’t. For some people pursuing joy can feel like an act of rebellion or resistance, but it is worth it and it is ok. I can acknowledge the pain and suffering of others and also acknowledge my own joy; in fact, acknowledging and accepting my own joy gives me the fuel to show up and help others.
Lately I’ve noticed a pattern in myself: when something good happens—family time, a movie with my son, laughing with friends—my brain quietly whispers, “Careful. Something bad is coming.” That’s foreboding joy: the nervous system trying to “pre-suffer” so I won’t be surprised later. The problem is, pre-suffering steals today without saving tomorrow.
So I’m choosing a different practice: inner joy conversion. (My opinion.) Instead of treating my inner critic like a saboteur to silence, I’m treating him like a tired security guard who has been on duty too long. He isn’t evil; he’s afraid. He wants to protect me from embarrassment, loss, rejection. I don’t need to banish him—I need to reassign him.
Instead of endless correction loops, I’m beginning inner re-parenting:
“Hey, little guy — you’ve been on guard duty all day. Come sit down; I’ve got this shift covered.”
Let the critic become a project manager for joy — the part that notices, “Hey, this feels good, let’s savor it.”
Practically, here’s what that looks like:
Name the gift in real time. “This conversation is good. This moment belongs.”
Thank the protector. “I know you’re scanning for danger. Thank you.”
Reassign the task. “Help me notice what’s working: the laughter, the peace, the connection.”
Take one small step of service (context for today): I’m worried about two parents upset with me and an upcoming IEP—so I’ll draft a calm three-sentence opening, gather the data, and outline options before the meeting. I’m also anxious about the holidays arriving fast—so I’ll set a 30-minute budget session tonight, earmark a small weekly amount, and choose two simple, meaningful traditions we can afford. Joy isn’t escapism; it’s fuel for thoughtful action.
I’m learning that acknowledging joy doesn’t minimize anyone’s suffering; it empowers me to meet suffering with a fuller tank—more patience, more creativity, more courage. Joy and compassion are not competitors. They are teammates.
Question for you: Where did joy try to visit you today—and what tiny step could you take to let it stay a little longer?
