Permission to Be Joyful: Why We Often Reject Joy (and What Happens When We Let It In)
Oct 19, 2025
Yesterday, during my morning routine, after listening to my air conditioner app I was enjoying a few minutes of Abraham Hicks playing. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular. But then it hit me.
“You have not yet given yourself permission to let what you want be your dominant vibration.”
The moment I heard it, something inside me clanged. Like a bell ringing in truth. It stopped me completely. I reached for my pen and wrote it down:
I have not yet given myself permission to let what I want be my dominant vibration.
And then I asked myself, “What do I really want?”
The answer came immediately.
I want joy. Energy flooded through me, letting me know that was right.
Not more work, not more approval, not even more ease. Just joy.
The Subtle Resistance to Joy
It sounds simple, doesn’t it? Wanting joy? But for so many of us, joy isn’t something we feel permission to pursue—let alone live in. We’ve learned how to cope, how to work harder, how to hold it together. We’ve learned to be kind and to be useful. We’ve even learned to be calm.
But joyful?
That’s trickier.
Joy can feel indulgent, fleeting, or even dangerous—especially if you’ve lived through grief, trauma, or long seasons of pain. It can feel like a setup. If you let yourself feel it, what if it disappears? What if it was never safe to feel it in the first place?
But here’s what I know now: joy isn’t something you earn. It’s not something you chase. It’s something you allow.
Emotional Permission: Starting Where You Are
When I wrote down what I wanted—joy—I didn’t suddenly feel joyful. I was actually feeling frustrated, even a little pessimistic. I knew I wasn’t going to jump from that place all the way to joy.
That’s not how it works.
What I could do was get honest with myself. I could ask, “What am I feeling right now?” and then gently reach for a thought that felt a little better. That’s where emotional self-awareness begins.
I could think, “This feels hard today” and follow it with “But I’m doing my best.” That felt a little softer. A little lighter.
Then maybe: “There’s still time today for something good to happen.” That was enough to shift me just a few degrees toward the emotional space where joy might visit later. Later on in the day, I was indeed laughing and lighter.
That’s what it means to allow joy.
What Happens When We Don’t Allow It
When we block joy, it doesn’t go away forever. It just sits quietly off to the side, waiting to be invited. But if we consistently push it down—because we don’t think we deserve it, or because someone else is suffering, or because we’re scared it will disappear—we begin to lose sight of it entirely.
We pinch it off, effectively losing access to that spark. That moment of connection. That sense of play or silliness or lightness.
If we continue to pinch it off we can become numb to joy—not because we don’t want it, but because we didn’t allow it, and some of us may have even forgotten it was safe. Even so, we can find our way back to joy.
I’ve done that. I’ve watched myself scroll past joy, turn away from it, dismiss it. And I’ve watched others do the same.
And I’ve also seen what happens when we let it back in.
Letting Joy Lead
What if joy was the starting point?
What if instead of asking “What should I do today?” I asked, “What would bring me joy today?”
Not in a big, dramatic way. Just something small. A stretch. A song. A walk. A text to someone I love. A piece of chocolate eaten slowly. Five minutes of stillness.
For me, it’s tulips this year. I have a big raised bed in my yard that used to have strawberries—delicious but tiny—and they often got eaten by birds and rabbits. My sister tried tomatoes next, but those didn’t thrive either. So this fall, we decided: color. We spent an afternoon scrolling through tulip varieties—there are so many kinds!—and placed an order that made us both giddy. Every time we think about those tulips blooming next spring, it brings us joy. And that’s the kind of joy I want to say yes to more often.
When I let joy lead, something in me opens.
I remember who I really am—not the list-maker, the fixer, the helper—but the being who came here to feel joyfully alive.
And from that place, I can listen. To myself. To the world. To others.
Because joy and presence go hand in hand.
Practicing Joy Without Pressure
Allowing joy doesn’t mean pretending everything’s fine.
It doesn’t mean being cheerful all the time or forcing a smile.
It means making room for joy, even in small ways.
It might be pausing to notice sunlight hitting your coffee mug.
It might be allowing yourself to laugh, even after a hard conversation.
It might be crying and being grateful in the same moment.
And yes—sometimes it might be laughing at a chicken purse.
If you like finding joy in unexpected places (and want to hear the full chicken purse story), scroll down and subscribe to my weekly emails.
They’re short, real, sometimes funny, and always grounded in the kind of listening and emotional honesty we all deserve.
Because joy doesn’t demand perfection.
It just asks for permission.
Joy as a Frequency
Abraham Hicks teaches that our emotions are guidance—signposts. And that our job isn’t to force ourselves to the top of the emotional scale, but to reach for the next better-feeling thought from wherever we are.
If I want joy to be my dominant vibration, I have to notice when I’m not in it—without judgment. And then gently redirect myself.
What thought feels just a little better?
Sometimes I know it immediately. Sometimes I turn to a friend to help me find it. Honestly, there are an infinite number of ways to turn to joy, and you only need to find yours.
Moving Forward
If joy has felt out of reach, you’re not alone. So many of us have learned to prioritize everything else. But this week, I’m starting here:
“I give myself permission to let joy be my dominant vibration.”
It might last ten seconds or ten minutes. But even that is a gift.
You don’t have to chase joy. You just have to let it in.
Right where you are.
Right now.
And if it feels too hard to find that next better-feeling thought on your own—HOLD is here for that. We offer listening appointments with a trained, compassionate professional. No advice. No judgment. Just space to exhale and reconnect with you.
Sometimes, feeling heard is the first step back to joy.
