I believe that anyone who is awake right now might agree—we are living in very troubled waters. These waters rise as environmental crises, political divisions, and ongoing global conflicts. And in the midst of it all, I find myself searching for the bridge that can carry us across.

I always ask: What can I do? And when I ask, the answers come—in many forms and through many people. I continue to stay awake, stay aware, and listen.

This past week was filled with synchronicities, emotional breakthroughs, and spiritual deepening. And in each moment of grace, I discovered yet another bridge across the turbulent currents. I find myself profoundly grateful for life—and for the life I’ve chosen to live. Alongside gratitude, one message keeps showing up again and again: find joy.

You might wonder: How does one find joy in times like these? For me, it’s about listening to the subtle tug of my heartstrings—those inner vibrations that begin to hum when I’m aligned with something true. Yes, we all have heartstrings. They are a kind of music: the melody of warmth and the rhythm of the soul’s longing. When we listen, those heartstrings become the bridge over troubled water.

This week, the message of joy arrived from many directions. One came through a Native American Elder who said, “When we do anything in life, we are doing it for the Creator.” He wasn’t speaking metaphorically—he was naming the struggle we often face in trying to please others. As the Spiritual Director of a Center, I know this well. I sometimes catch myself thinking: If I give this talk, create that event, or plan that experience, maybe someone will feel helped—maybe they’ll be satisfied. But if those decisions aren’t rooted in joy, then I’m not doing it for the Creator.

In our Science of Mind philosophy, the Creator is the Source of all life, expressing through each of us. The more joy we express, the more the Creator is revealed. This Elder seemed to sense how deeply we needed that reminder. His message didn’t just come from him—it came through him, from the Creator. And we were blessed to hear it. The Elder kept repeating in one way or another: “Find Joy!”

That same message echoed again during our good friend’s grandson, Tanner Prentiss’s Celebration of Life, livestreamed on Facebook. Tanner was just 22 when he died suddenly in May. The details of his passing aren’t necessary. What was present, in every story shared and every tear shed, was a call to live with joy. Tanner’s message—shared through his sisters, father, grandmother, and friends—became their bridge across the overwhelming grief of his loss.

It made me realize something about sorrow, especially the overwhelming sorrow that comes with losing a loved one. One way we honor those we’ve lost is to live for them. To live with joy. That insight deepened my own commitment to living in full expression—not to achieve something or to “get ahead,” but simply to live in my joy—as Rita.

That’s why I’m writing this now. After Tanner’s memorial, I felt a wave of deep sadness. To move that sorrow, I turned to something I love: writing. Writing gives me joy. It helps me cross the waters.

There’s no denying that the world is in turmoil. But I believe we are being called to stay awake, stay aware, and offer our own form of healing—by expressing joy in whatever way we can. We’re being asked to speak up—not from anger, but from strength, love, and fearless truth.

So I ask you: What gives you joy? Have you received that message lately? If not, you’re receiving it now, just by reading this blog. And if it feels impossible to find joy in your current situation, let me reassure you: it’s not. There is always a new door waiting to open—a bridge rising up to carry you across your troubled waters.

I saw this truth echoed in a TV series I’ve been watching. There are two men: one a builder and creator, living by imagination and passion. The other, also a creator, works through manipulation and control. He strikes out against the first man and his family, trying to elevate himself. But the turning point comes when the first man—guided by his imagination—finds a way through the storm, even though he risks everything. He and his wife look at each other and say: “It doesn’t matter if we lose everything. We can always start again. We are not afraid. We’ll take this risk.”

In the story’s conclusion, the man who built his empire on control loses everything. In despair, he begs for mercy—but the first man, still healing, hesitates. Just as he’s about to offer forgiveness, the other man takes his own life. He couldn’t see past his misery. He couldn’t imagine a new beginning.

And that is the lesson: Everything begins with imagination and joy. Energy can neither be created nor destroyed—but it can be transmuted into something new. Creativity—Source in motion—arises from joy, passion, and love. We are never lost. There is always a bridge waiting to rise and carry us across our troubles. It is the bridge that is build with joy.

Building Bridges of Joy,

Rev. Dr. Rita Andriello-Feren, Author, Co-Founding Spiritual Director CSL Kaua’i