Befriending JOY

I will never forget my daughter’s wisdom of doing something simply because of the joy she finds in it. Not to achieve something, get somewhere or be someone. This lesson from her came when I asked if she wanted to participate in her swim and soccer team again this year, and if so, why and how she wants to improve her skills. Her simple yet profoundly wise answer stopped me in my track. She told me she wanted to just have fun doing them this year because it brings her joy. That was it. No big goals, plans or reasons. Just for the pure joy she found in it. Isn’t that a big part of what living is really about, one that most of us adults seem to be missing?

My husband used to remind me that not everything we do has to be productive or educational. We can just simply have fun. That is something I still struggle with. Feeling guilty (for being ‘lazy’) when I’m not being productive or working towards something. Although I was excited about finally starting my private practice last year (after being a stay-at-home-homeschool mom for many years), the constant ‘need to achieve something’, ‘ get somewhere’, and  ‘do/show something’ was robbing me of the joy of pursuing my passion in the first place.

Joy, the elusive yet fundamental human experience. It reminded me of the scene in Inside Out 2 (one of my favorite movies of all time) where Joy said, “Maybe that’s what happens when you grow up, you feel less joy”. My heart sank when I heard that. It is disheartening yet feels so true in our lives today. So, I resolved to focus on intentionally slowing down to allow myself to experience joy again. In fact, I even wrote it down on my list (see what I did there!). Even though I’ve done a lot of work on my healing journey, that is something I’m still trying to rediscover. Isn’t that really the whole point of healing? To allow ourselves to experience the joy of living?

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That was the draft introduction to a post that sat on my computer for the last few months. I didn’t really know what I have to say on that, until my experience two weeks ago…

June 27, 2025

Yesterday, I felt like moving my body and so I went out for a light jog on my neighborhood trail. As I was listening to music, enjoying the blue sky and the sun’s warmth on my face, I caught sight of two colorful little birds flying right beside me. I slowed down and they seemed to slow down with me, moving ever so gracefully, keeping themselves just a few steps ahead. Suddenly a wave of emotion swept over me. I paused and allowed myself to fully embrace what was coming up. It was something I haven’t felt in a while - sheer JOY of being alive! I could feel it in every fiber of my being. Then came the tears and laughter! And it was liberating!

That didn’t just come out of nowhere. This is not a post about the joy of spending time in nature, moving our body or appreciating the simple things in life (even though those things are nourishing to my soul too!). This came after an intense weekend of offering the space to meet myself where I am at, even when it felt messy, ‘out of control’, and shook me to my core, literally and figuratively.

A few days ago, I attended my Beginning Level 1 Somatic Experiencing (SE) training in Sacramento. The 4-day training was led by Debra Clydesdale and supported by a team of amazing SE practitioners. I still remember, on the very first day, we were invited to empty our cups (from whatever other trainings and experiences we’ve had) and have a beginner’s mind so that we can receive the information in the coming days with an open mind and heart. For the first time in my pursuit of learning, I allowed myself to do that. I came empty, present, and opened my heart and mind to receive. And I left that weekend with a felt sense of lightness within.

A few months before the training, I filled out a request form to volunteer for demo during the training. The issue I wanted to work on was how fear was keeping me from experiencing joy and being present in my life. I was getting a little nervous on the first day, wondering if and when I will get called on to sit in front of the class and bear my soul for all to see. Well, the universe had other plans for me.

On the second day of training, I arranged to work with an experienced SE practitioner (Sarit Rogers) in an individual session during our lunch break. Without any specific agenda in mind but just allowing whatever was present to arise, Sarit offered me a safe space to process my longing and shame of being seen. I didn’t know it then, but that session cracked open the doorway to heal my deep-seated fear, right in front of the class the following day.

On the following morning, during a simple visualization exercise that involved being on the beach and ocean, where most may find relaxing, I found myself suddenly being triggered. Midway through I noticed my heart was racing and I could sense my body trembling. I drank some water to swallow the lump that was coming up in my throat. The desire to leave the room and calm myself down was coming on strong. I paused and tuned into what was coming up in my body, something we talked a lot about during the training. I didn’t really understand it, but I noticed a deep sense of fear rising. I sat through the exercise nonetheless, without participating any further. I was about to just brush it off when our trainer, Debra, asked if there was anyone in the room who absolutely hated the exercise, and my hand shot right up, almost like a reflex. (If you know me, you’d understand that I’m not one who would draw attention to myself if I can avoid it). I recall her asking if there was anything they could do to help make the experience better. As I stood up to speak, it suddenly became clear what triggered me. The idea of being on the beach, touching the ocean, brought up one of my deepest fears that had been buried deep down in my body - a near-drowning experience that happened four decades ago. The fear of drowning, of dying alone, along with the shame that comes with feeling handicapped for not being able to swim, and the longing to be able to enjoy the water with my family - it all came flooding in.

As Debra guided me through what was unfolding right before the class, my body began to discharge the energy that I didn’t even realize was stuck inside all these years. My body shook for what felt like a long time. I choked and coughed, just as I did when my dad pulled me out of the water. I could feel a surge of emotions that I didn’t have words for. I didn’t try to make sense of it nor did I stand in the way of my body doing what it needed to do. With SE, Debra gently guided me through, and my body began to settle down. She did so not by questioning, reasoning or challenging, as others have in the past when trying to help me work through my fear. Rather by holding a safe space she’s created along with her assistants and other participants throughout the week to allow me to meet what was coming up in my body in the here and now so that I could renegotiate the hold this traumatic memory has on me.

I was exhausted when I return home that evening. I couldn’t bring myself to do much at all, besides attending to my daughter who missed me. I didn’t want to process what happened mentally or make meaning out of it, as I normally would. Instead, I did nothing at all but simply surrender to my body’s need for rest. The next morning, as I lay in bed, I noticed that my body was still trembling, but in a much gentler way than the day before. So I stayed, letting my body complete what it needed to. By the time I got out of bed, I felt lighter…with a hint of hopefulness.     

I carried that feeling with me as I drove to the nearest co-op to get some nourishing food for my last day of training. As I was walking out of the sliding door while sipping my warm cuppa, I felt the sun on my face and looked up to take in its warm embrace. That was when the feeling of ‘I feel alive!’ hit me, followed by a deep slow inhale, like I was coming up for air after being underwater for a long time. A sudden wave of emotions came crashing in and I half walked-half ran to my car. A part of me wanted to just shove it down and drive off. A bunch of thoughts came into my mind, “Don’t start crying now. You’ll be late for training, with eyes all swollen looking like a mess (like you did the day before!)”  But I remembered the power of pausing. So I sat there at the parking lot and invited my body to show me what it needed me to know. And tears just started pouring down my cheeks. I began sobbing. Not from sadness or grief, like what I’m used to. But immense gratitude. For Debra, her team, and everyone present at the training who held space for me to process my fear and shame. For me, for choosing to come home to myself, to do the work over the years and build my capacity to meet life even when it was hard. Because those reasons made experiencing this moment of joy of living possible. Even if this moment and this feeling of joy is fleeting, it didn’t matter. Because now I know deep inside that it exists within me. It is not something I have to search anywhere else for, change or do anything to experience. It is there waiting for me each time I choose to turn inward to meet myself wherever I am at. This deep knowing that morning made me fall in love with life again, and the sheer joy of it came few days later on my run that morning with the birds.

At the core, isn’t this why we all want to heal from our wounds and dis-eases? To be able to feel alive again? But that also requires us to allow ourselves to experience what it means to be human, along with the full range of emotions of being one. Because we can’t truly feel joy and love without also knowing pain. We can’t see light without knowing darkness. Nor the feeling of pride without shame, hope without fear, peace and calm without anger and chaos. It is in our capacity to hold both and to move through the ebb and flow of life without getting stuck in them or be swept away by it that allows us to feel alive. To me, that is the core of what regulation means.

So having more capacity in your nervous system doesn’t mean you’re always going to feel calm, peaceful and grounded. Case in point (see photos below) – the first photo is of me basking in the joy of being alive that morning. (I hardly ever take photos of myself, let alone selfies. Especially not a sweaty one. But I wanted to remember that moment, that feeling.) And right after I took it, I turned around to head back home on the trail. That was when I saw the smoke from a nearby fire (next photo). I didn’t think much of it at first, but as I got closer I realized that it was coming from the direction of my house. I noticed my pace quickened, so did my heartbeat and my breathing. It was a feeling I’m very familiar with. That feeling that ‘s**t always happen right when I’m feeling happy, when I let my guard down’. I noticed that response pattern coming online. I paused without responding. Then as quickly as it came, I noticed my body beginning to soften, my pace slowly returning to normal, and I began to settle down. Next came the thought, “It’s not our house. Everyone is safe”. With that awareness, that one choice, I interrupted the familiar pattern I was stuck in, and my body responded to what was real in the present moment, not one shaped by the past. Just like I did during my training when my fear was triggered. The choice to stay in the room, the choice to speak up and share, and the choice to meet myself where I’m at, with curiosity and compassion, supported by those around me.

This showed me that triggers, dangers and warning signs will always be there. But so is safety, joy, love, and wonder. I believe that the difference in our experience lies in what we choose to direct our energy towards and be curious about. And it isn’t in the grand steps we take, the huge cathartic releases, the long retreats to heal, or the regulation tools and hacks we learn (even though all of those can be very helpful). Rather it is in choosing to give ourselves the gift of presence, moment by moment, and in slowly expanding our capacity to allow the simple little things in, one drop at a time.

Lastly, this recent experience also solidified what I’ve been thinking for a while now – that NO ONE specific modality/therapy/course/healer is going to heal you. Because that isn’t how human is meant to experience life. We are much more complex, yet also simpler than that in many ways. It took me many years, through experiencing different healing modalities, learning from different courses and different teachers, making many different choices to be where I am today. Each of these experiences, when we allow them to, open up a doorway (even if it is just a tiny crack at first) that takes us one step closer to home, to our heart, and back to the true essence of our being, back to our joy of living.

Everything in my life that has brought me to where I am at made this experience possible. Nothing is ever wasted, unless we choose to ignore the lessons or do nothing with them. Instead, it becomes part of our stories, shaping who we are, as an ever evolving human being. Our story is part of our offering to this world, to life, and to others who cross our path. Thank you for being part of mine. And I hope to be part of yours.