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  • Writer's pictureHannah Telluselle

Bereaved of joy

It was when I saw that glimpse of my own inner child's light in the side rear-view mirror in Hawaii 2004, when Jesse took me on a ride around Oahu, I realized how I had lost something.

We refer to babies as "bundles of joy", or perhaps pets that we also can love unconditionally, but what if these are just outer reminders of what lies dormant within you, beckoning to be expressed?

True joy is never dependant on anybody else than yourself to experience, but we're always interdependent. It's this responsibility that I see many people refuse assuming, especially in the self-help business, where everybody just want to manifest money to themselves.

In a harsh world, we no longer are bundles of joy towards each other since we all fight for our right to eat, sleep and love. And sometimes that joy, inherent within our soul, flees, or is chased away, by evil tongues and acts, whether through our own or more likely others' reckless behavior not considering the true vulnerability with which we live here on earth, where our lives can end in a split second.

Our soul is wisdom, our spirit is the spark in our eyes and our voice, that embodies passion. It's this that constitutes our charisma, radiating when we are whole and coming forth when we get to do what we love with respect and support by others.

I felt I lost mine when my mother became terminally ill in 2003, but perhaps even before that, little pieces had left or become buried down. It's this healing journey, I started to reclaim in late 2014, 20 years after it had been peeled off so much it had made me physically ill.

What do you win on bereaving me, yourself or anybody else of their joy? Would you have more of your own if you hinder others? What can you do instead to enable both yourself to feel joy, and others?

Photo from Gettyimages.

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