Stop Sabotaging Your Joy

You ever notice how when you are really happy about something, there is a split second of terror when your imagination flashes everything you’re stoked about going to absolute shit? And then, you attempt to mellow out on your excitement as a way to protect yourself should the crazy terrible thing happen. It’s called foreboding joy, is super common, and is absolute mind-fuckery at its finest.

We seem to think that if we mute our joy it will prevent something bad from happening but that’s just some fear-based, ass-backwards thinking that needs to stop. Fearing the worst and limiting your happiness as a way to protect yourself is like drawing a bath with cold water because a hot bath could eventually get chilly. All that you’re doing is just taking a shitty bath.

Why on earth do we do this then? Are we subconscious masochists who derive pleasure from stamping out any sense of delight? Probably not. I think it comes down to one thing–vulnerability. When we truly feel joy, appreciation, or happiness we are vulnerable AF because we are feeling fully and letting our hearts guide our reaction.

It can be scary as hell when the heart leads. We face uncertainty and when we live from a place of heart, we risk getting hurt. It’s that whole, the higher you are, the harder you fall thing. So the mind steps in as a way to soothe us with some improbable Debbie-downer bullshit and places a shield around our seemingly fragile hearts. The mind has the best of intentions, but the problem is that by attempting to shelter the heart, it’s preventing us from feeling, which is to say, preventing us from living.

Two years ago my husband and I decided to make like rabbits and procreate. After a year and a half of trying for a mini-me, it finally happened. Pregnant at last! I felt total joy and excitement, but shortly after, it ended in miscarriage. The disappointment was suffocating. It felt like it would never end but eventually, it got easier and I was able to breathe once again. And with time, we started trying again.

Much to our surprise, a little swimmer hit the jackpot and we got another positive piss stick. I was cautiously optimistic. I was scared to let myself feel it fully in case it ended as the first one had. I had contradicting reveries–some were of our future life as a family and others were replays of getting the dreaded bad news of no heartbeat once again.

The mind tried to reassure me that if I stayed low to the ground and didn’t climb so high it wouldn’t hurt if I fell. The heart begged for me to feel everything in its entirety and choose love over fear, but alas, the mind’s convincing precaution won.

A few weeks after the positive test, I miscarried again. The fall hurt just as bad, if not worse. I still skinned my knees and bruised my palms regardless of how little I had climbed. The difference was that I didn’t give myself the opportunity to experience the bliss from a heart unobstructed and fully exposed. I half-lived a profound life event and it felt wrong and wasteful.

So please, dear readers, listen up. Foreboding joy in an attempt to lessen disappointment just plain doesn’t work. The disappointment is still there, just as raw and intense, but you starve yourself of the happiness and presence that makes it all worth it.

Fortunately, there is a simple and effective solution to foreboding joy: Gratitude. Appreciating the thing that fills us with happiness amplifies all of those warm and fuzzy feelings. It silences the mind and reminds us that when we are grateful we are entirely present and operating out of a place of love. It’s the key to living and enjoying all of the moments, not just the ones that tickle our pickle.

To commit to living from a place of heart and feeling fully, both the good and the challenging emotions, is how we grow and really live. And I know that if I’m going to live my best life, I must climb as high as I am capable of regardless of the possibility of falling because let’s face it, the higher you go, the better the view.