Clinging to Moments of Joy, Hope, and Respite

With the onslaught of terrible happenings this week, beginning with the inauguration of a certain Cheeto man, whom I won't even dignify by using his name, and followed by a hefty slew of executive orders already signed, January is off to a rough start.

This week also marks the 6th year anniversary of my dad's passing. Each year, I keep wondering if this is the year that it will feel easier and year each proves me wrong yet again. As a member of the dead dad's club, I can definitively say that it has yet to get easier for me.

And also, I just really don't enjoy grief. It's such an unsettling emotion. It comes in waves and announces its presence when we least expect it. It makes you consider how your heart could possibly continue on while it feels like it’s bleeding out. It makes you wish you could just go back in time for one more moment before your world was turned upside down. It makes you regret every moment you ‘just didn’t have the time.’ It sometimes keep you awake at night hoping that it doesn’t strike again in a different form, like a thief in the night. Because for some reason, it’s always seems to come unexpected and unwelcome. And I hate it.

I never dared to proclaim that 2025 was going to be my year, I'm not that bold. But I also didn't expect for it to feel quite so sticky. The continuous feeling of existential dread and grief coursing through my veins almost feels palpable.

And yet, despite all of that, I cannot stress for myself and for all of you, the importance of finding tiny moments of joy, of hope, of respite.

To be clear, I am not speaking about toxic positivity, the idea that people should always be positive, even in the face of difficult situations. That's bullshit. And if you're not experiencing feelings of anger, frustration, hopelessness, overwhelm, anxiety, or a combination of all the above, I would be extremely concerned about your sanity (and your humanity). I'm not telling you to lean into casual platitudes like "it could always be worse" or to ignore the reality of what is happening right in front of our eyes.

I am, however, asking you not to drown in despair, and trust me, I realize that's a tall order.

I’m asking you to lean into resiliency.

I’m asking you to consider recognizing the importance and necessity of searching for joy and pleasure, now more than ever.

Because at their core, racism and white supremacy are a tool of distraction.

“The function, the very serious function of racism is distraction. It keeps you from doing your work. It keeps you explaining, over and over again, your reason for being. Somebody says you have no language and you spend twenty years proving that you do. Somebody says your head isn’t shaped properly so you have scientists working on the fact that it is. Somebody says you have no art, so you dredge that up. Somebody says you have no kingdoms, so you dredge that up. None of this is necessary. There will always be one more thing.” ―Toni Morrison

My work exploded in 2020 when suddenly everyone was awakened to the reality that the message I had been sharing for years — that racism is a public health issue and as such, we need to create anti-racist and inclusive wellness spaces — was indeed important. I led thousands of people through my courses on anti-racism and DEI in wellness, and I led corporate trainings for the likes of Nike, Google, and Under Armour, among others. I'm so proud of the work I did and the impact I created.

And while I always knew that anti-racism was just a phase for a lot of folks and never expected it to last indefinitely (history shows us that), I was on no level prepared for the zealous return to white supremacist culture we are currently experiencing.

I'm not sure how to describe the heaviness in my heart over the past couple of weeks; between the overt resurgence in white supremacy and the fact that thinness is also back with a vengeance, it almost feels like the work I did was meaningless. And while I know in my heart that's not true, it's challenging not to feel like I spent the last 4 years shouting into the void.

But don’t worry folks, I'm totally fine.

But all jokes aside, I am fine because I know despair won’t save me, nor will it propel me to continue doing my work in the world. And more importantly, truth remains truth whether people decide to embrace it or not.

And despair is not the thing that is going to save you either.

A few days ago, Brittany, Packnett Cunningham shared the words below and it was the gentle reminder I needed.

Yes, everything is a dumpster fire right now, and yet, our hobbies and interests and gifts and talents are still needed in this world.

If you don’t write that book, what are we going to read?

If you don’t create your art, what will we decorate our homes with?

If you don’t share that recipe you created, what are we going to cook for dinner?

If you don’t start the podcast, what will we listen to?

I realize we are in difficult times, but as a descendent of enslaved people, my ancestors are reminding me that my lineage has been through worse and yet here I am, a physical manifestation of them; a breathing, living manifestation of them.

As such, I refuse to be overwhelmed and perpetually distracted. I refuse to let my joy be stolen. I refuse to let my purpose be stolen. I refuse to denounce the beauty that exists even in the midst of grief and chaos. I choose to embrace the duality of life.

I choose to lean into the fact that my work and impact doesn't have to be only in teaching about white supremacy and anti-racism. I contain a multitude within me.

My work can also be in sharing my insights or the things that are bringing me pleasure or tending to my own garden.

This too is liberation because the existence of Black women is not only to struggle and showcase our pain. We’ve done enough of that, and it has yet to eradicate the racism that some of us spent the past four years teaching people about.

Despite all the chaos our incoming administration will undoubtedly cause, I'm not going to spend my energy amplifying it. I'd rather spend my energy finding moments of joy and more importantly, uplifting, amplifying, and supporting the lives of Black and brown people and queer and trans folks.

I would argue that one the best uses of our time is creating true community and supporting one another, ensuring that we are well loved, well nourished, and well cared for.

Energy is a limited resource and instead of using my energy convincing folks to denounce white supremacy culture, I'm going to pour that energy into cultivating spaces of liberation for those who actually want to be free.

So do your work – whatever that is for you – and while you do it, cling to moments of joy, of hope, of respite, no matter how big or how small.

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