We must allow ourselves to feel joy wherever we can. Just ask Rod Stewart

It comes back to Rod Stewart, as things inevitably do. Or should.

Many aspects of the life we live have a Rod-shaped element. Take football. Think of knockout competitions and you will think of Rod, a little jolly following a Celtic victory, drawing teams live on TV for the fifth round of the Scottish Cup, in early 2017. We’re eight years on and few moments in football have bettered that. If you’re not familiar, go and watch it now.

Then, let’s look at local authority funding and deficits, and we’ll move quickly to Rod. Last week, Keir Starmer announced a punitive measure that laid out how central government in England would hold back a certain level of funding to local authorities if those authorities didn’t provide evidence of pothole repairs.

Leaving aside how this feels like a headline-capture exercise playing to the ongoing national pothole obsession, rather than an attempt to really help, and Rod still pops up. Back in March 2022, Rod, at breaking point with potholes in the road near his Harlow home (they played merry hell with his Ferrari) got together with some mates, bought a load of gravel and started making repairs. There he was, in leopard-skin leggings and a green-and-white scarf, packing down the aggregate as he happily whistled Da Ya Think I’m Sexy (part of that image is exaggerated).

I’m not sure if Rod’s fiscal rules are non negotiable – he certainly had something to say about taxation levels in the early ’70s – but he was happy in the moment trying to do something of use that would help others. And stop damaging his Ferrari.

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There are many other moments in the last 50 years when Rod has appeared to lighten things up a little. 

Rod, it seems, has lived his life in joy, rather than in shadow. You could argue that it is easier to find joy if you’re a multi-millionaire and beloved performer with a floodlit private football pitch at your house, being more than able to provide for your big family around you. But there is something about Rod that suggests that innate joy would still have been there when he was digging graves in North London.

The older I get the more I value joy, and kindness. One tends to follow the other. Many conversations with friends and relatives currently feel weighted with worry, that there is a dark spiral at large, anchoring things in existential dread, internationally and at home. Many say they don’t want to follow the news. Even Adolescence, the TV show of the moment, deals with a darkness that can feel too big to comprehend and deal with.  

Here at Big Issue we receive a growing volume of letters and messages from readers worried about how government changes to essential benefits will impact them, or with worries about jobs and debt. I’m glad that, increasingly, we can help. It would be facile, and insulting, to suggest that the way to deal with any of that is to forget about it and simply seek joy, like some kind of mawkish self-help guru. But we do need to find slivers. 

There are enough reminders that life is nasty, brutish and short. There is not a great secret to how to navigate correctly. We are all of us fumbling around. We must allow ourselves to feel joy in moments, whether family, or friends, or your dog, or music or a TV show about pottery. It doesn’t matter. 

Leonard Cohen, during a live performance of Tower of Song, said he had penetrated to the heart of things, and got to the core of the mysteries. He shared it with us all there present. It was, he said: “Doo dum dum dum da doo dum dum.” Maybe he was right. That brought a little joy.

I might mention it to Rod.

Paul McNamee is editor of the Big Issue.Read more of his columns here. Follow him on X.

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