The Quiet Strength of Joy

Last night, in the circle of my support group, I found myself speaking about joy — even amid sorrow.

As some of you may know, my heart is heavy this week.
The tragedy that unfolded at the Lapu-Lapu* Day celebration in Vancouver last April 26th — a day meant to honor Filipino heritage and bring our community together — has left deep cracks in all of us. What should have been a happy gathering was shattered by unimaginable loss. Families broken. Dreams stolen. A festival turned into mourning.

It would be easy to say that our happiness was stolen that day. And maybe, for a time, it was.

But I shared something last night that feels even more true today:

Happiness is a temporary emotion. It happens to us, but joy remains, no matter what we go through.

Happiness comes and goes depending on circumstances—a sunny day, a joke shared between friends, a crocus blooming after a long winter. It reacts to what’s outside of us.

Joy, though, is different.
Joy transcends.
Joy can exist even in the middle of heartache.
Joy is a fruit we cultivate intentionally, through connection, meaning, purpose, and through the love we build in our communities.

My Filipino community is rooted in joy.

It is baked into our close-knit relationships after potlucks, karaoke sessions, and our gatherings. As an immigrant, moving to Winnipeg was not a hard transition. I had moments of homesickness, but new friends felt like long-time ones. I had a new tita (auntie) and tito (tito), ate, and kuya (big sis and bro). Joy rises on occasions after the best salu-salo, loudest karaoke sessions, and hardest goodbyes. It blooms in how we show up for each other, no matter the distance or time.

The tragedy may have robbed us of a happy day of celebration —
but it cannot steal the deeper joy that binds us together.
Our joy will prevail. It already has.

I know this because I’ve lived it in my own story, too.

Years ago, I thought happiness was something to be chased — through food (eating my feelings away), shopping (until the last cent), busyness (full social calendar), even mountains of flowers from a job that let me take home armfuls of blooms. For a while, it worked. I was happy — at least on the surface.

But it wasn't joy.

Joy came later. Eventually. Quietly. It’s when I moved away from the city and learned how to garden and wait.
Joy came when I let go of needing more and started tending to what I already have.
Joy came when flowers weren’t just my house decorations — they became teachers.
When indigo leaves and pigment turned cloth blue (and my hands), and in that mystery, I found myself transformed.

When COVID isolated us from each other, and some personal hardships, it was the garden that sustained me. Dare I say, saved me.

In every plant I tended to, every petal and tinta (colour, dye), nature whispered: You still have a purpose. You are still part of something beautiful.

Joy is bigger than tragedy because joy comes from within.

It comes from how we hold each other through pain.
It comes from finding purpose even in suffering.
It comes from remembering that sorrow and joy are two sides of the same coin.

I revisited my favorite poem, On Joy and Sorrow by Khalil Gibran and this line stuck with me:

"The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain."

Today, even when I’m not directly affected by the tragedy, I grieve with my Filipino community.
And I will hold joy fiercely in my hands, my heart, my breath.

Joy is our inheritance.
Joy is our resistance.
Joy is our companion.

Check on each other, love on each other.

Yours in sorrow and Joy,

Lourdes

*Lapu-Lapu is remembered as the first Filipino hero who stood firmly against Spanish colonization, lighting a flame of resistance that would echo through generations.

Back in 1521, Portuguese navigator Ferdinand Magellan arrived in the Philippines, aiming to spread Christianity and expand Spanish rule. He allied with Rajah Humabon of Cebu, hoping to gain control through diplomacy and power. But when he encountered Datu Lapu-Lapu of Mactan, he was met with unwavering defiance. Lapu-Lapu, committed to protecting his people and their sovereignty, refused to submit, choosing resistance over alliance. Source: https://lapulapuday.com/pages/what-is-lapu-lapu-day