Fighting Joy Killers
and sometimes winning…
Joy, or the concept of joy, is often toothless and vague because it needs to be. It is both hollow and touchable, in part because it is something that can’t be explained as well as it can be visualized and experienced.
Hanif Abdurraqib
I’m digging deep these days. When I made the choice to walk away from my (very steady, count on it always) paycheck, leaving public education to walk an alternative path, I felt both scared and brave simultaneously. As a parting gift a girlfriend of mine gave me a little dish with the word “rebel” in its center.
For three years now it has been part of my morning ritual. It rests on my side table as a necessary reminder (you chose this Natalie!), and on my best days I feel I can claim that title. When my 10-year-old said to me just last night, “Mama you are persistent!” I felt rewarded for that big move. If for him I’m modeling something like choosing joy, that’s a win for both of us.
But joy is paired with pain. The feeling of one is tied to the other (as Rob Base and DJ E-Z Rock have been reminding us since 1989). But with the world in turmoil coupled with a few too many nos received over the last couple years, there has been a “wear-me-down” effect. I will not go down easily, but the fight is real.
What is the counterweight to a killer of joy? A cheer leader perhaps. I’ll go with that and see where it takes me. Often for me that cheer is found in art. In words.
A little late to the game on this one—Hanif Abdurraqib’s book of essays They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us came out in 2017—but sometimes a book just finds you. I know this to be true because I wrote about another book finding me in the middle of a coffee shop in Oxford, England 20 years ago. That one changed me for the better. So I feel about my experience with Abdurraqib’s essays, found this past week in a Toronto used bookstore, misplaced in the WWII section. Reading it for the past few evenings has me feeling…different. Joyful even.
On the surface this book of essays discusses music. Pop, Hip Hop, Rock, concerts, album releases. But someone has written that his music criticism is really “a vehicle…to delve deeper…exploring themes of race, friendship and our shared quest for meaning.” And at 46 I feel like my life is one big quest for meaning. I mean whose isn’t? Validating my desire to fight and name my joy killers, he’s dropping gems like this in his Instagram story:
I, too, want to write “some fraction of the way I live” and learn from my feelings even when they don’t feel like joy. And because link-making is my mo, I looked to other writers I might add to my cheer leader list—some other wordsmiths who consistently bring me joy:
Cheer Leaders like
and write me towards joy.As a lover of lists,
’s words often help.As a liberal user of the word LOVE I’m finding
’s sentiments joy-filled. is a wizard with words, making me laugh and think harder in a 30 second reel than a lot of writers can with way more words (and significantly less joy!) — find him on Instagram or TikTok.
In a recent essay for Sotheby’s Abdurraqib wrote, “I am grateful to every version of myself for having survived, so that I can have this version, and whatever versions come after.” That sentence right there sums up a fulsome version of joy for me: encompassing survival, gratitude, and reinvention.
In the spirit of Abdurraqib’s words of wisdom, an authentically joy-filled playlist for me might include a podcast episode from Reframeables recorded as my sister and I walked through the streets of Austin trying to make our way back to the hotel. Survival. Gratitude. Reinvention.
I’d love to know your joy-filled playlist choices. Your relational reading lists! Please share in the comments.
And if you’re in (or can be in!) the Toronto area on November 25th, get your ticket for the premiere screening of Ceres Productions’ new documentary Little Church: Stories of Change. Directed by my brilliant sister.
Thank you for your support, both readerly and financially — here’s to building a better world with more joy-filled words.
Let the spirit guide. It's hard at times to do but one day you will understand it all. A song drop just now .....further along we will know about it.
Joy is when you laugh after the fact. To be anointed with oil of gladness is when we do it afraid and trusting.....
I guess I'm self advising here....so self listen. But you have to watch out for joy killers, yep.
I give a jokes that crack me up when I think about. So I'm struggling as a single mom. So one day I remember my grandmother and mother how these ladies had to take care of a household of 24 individuals. They work hard ...not all their kids but from deceased siblings. Anyways life was tuff .... suddenly a joy overcome me...I said if you have a MBA and struggling then kudos to my grandmother and mother as I would have to give away 2 of the kids, but my grandmother said Nope and I never hear she complained.....I laughed until I cry ..🤣🤣🤣even now ... all by myself. So go for it and find something or someone to pivot on and like Isaiah....don't be afraid, well sometimes it's scary but don't Abba knows all about it nonetheless ....