The Freedom to Be Still: Reflections on Juneteenth, Joy, and the Practice of Liberation

Ze-Enna Jenkins
Jun 23
9 min read

Updated: Jun 26

Nazareth University - Rochester, NY - June 2026

Dear Friends,

I hope you've found a few moments lately to slow down.

To take a deep breath.

To feel the warmth of the sun on your skin.

To roll the windows down and let your favorite song carry you home.

To remember that your worth has never been measured by how busy you've been.

Life has been beautifully full these past few months. Between beginning a new chapter at my alma mater, presenting my burnout workshop, continuing to grow Still by Z, and intentionally making space for joy, one question followed me Juneteenth weekend:

What does freedom look like today?

Growing up in Dallas, Texas, Juneteenth wasn't just another holiday. Long before it became a federal holiday, it was woven into the rhythm of our community through food, music, family, laughter, parades, and stories. It was a celebration of resilience and joy! It was a reminder that our history carries pain and possibility.

As I've gotten older, I've come to appreciate Juneteenth differently.

Yes, it commemorates the delayed arrival of freedom to enslaved people in Texas.

But it also invites each of us to ask a more personal question:

What does freedom mean now?

For me, freedom has begun to look less like accomplishing more and more like permitting myself to pause.

The freedom to rest without guilt. Taking time to pause without guilt or pressure.

The freedom to protect my peace. NO NOTES!

The freedom to dream bigger than fear. Imagining futures beyond current limitations.

The freedom to create. Expressing myself through art, work, innovation, and service.

The freedom to heal. Allowing space for emotional and physical recovery.

The freedom to simply be. Accepting myself without constant striving.

Because, in a culture that constantly rewards busyness, choosing stillness can be one of the most radical things we do.

Juneteenth Beyond History

Juneteenth has always been more than a date on the calendar for me. Growing up in Dallas, Texas, it was a day filled with family, food, music, laughter, and stories. Long before it became a federal holiday, it was woven into the fabric of our community. It was a celebration of resilience, remembrance, and joy.

As I've gotten older, I've come to appreciate this day in new ways. Yes, Juneteenth commemorates freedom's delayed arrival to enslaved people in Texas. Yes, this delay reminds us that freedom is not always immediate or complete. Even now, generations later, many of us continue to wrestle with what freedom actually means. For Black Americans especially, Juneteenth doesn't declare that the work is finished. It reminds us of how far we've come, how far we still have to go, and why remembering matters.

This year, as our country observes both Juneteenth and prepares to celebrate Independence Day, I find myself holding both gratitude and tension.

Gratitude for the sacrifices of those who came before us.

Tension because equity, justice, and true liberation remain unfinished work.

Both are true.

One of the people who has profoundly shaped my understanding of rest is Tricia Hersey, founder of The Nap Ministry. Her work reminds us that rest is not something we earn after we've exhausted ourselves. Rest is our birthright. Rest is resistance. In a world and within systems that have long demanded constant labor and productivity, choosing to rest becomes an act of reclaiming our humanity.

This perspective won't let me go!

Rest does not replace action.

Quite the opposite.

Rest is what sustains us for the work. It allows us to dream, imagine, and return to our communities, our families, and ourselves with greater clarity, compassion, and endurance.

Perhaps that's why this season has led me to a different question:

If freedom is still something we're collectively striving toward, what does personal liberation look like while we're living through the in-between?

For me, it has begun to look like stillness.

Freedom has also come to mean...

The freedom to rest without guilt: taking time to pause without guilt or pressure
The freedom to dream bigger than fear: imagining futures beyond current limitations
The freedom to create: expressing myself through art, work, innovation, and service
The freedom to heal: allowing space for emotional and physical recovery
The freedom to protect my peace: NO NOTES
The freedom to simply be: accepting myself without constant striving

These freedoms are essential. It's liberating to have the ability to relax, dream, and grow despite challenges. Juneteenth encourages us to celebrate not only survival but also the joy that sustains us.

Returning "Home"

This year, freedom also looked like coming "home".

One of the greatest blessings of this season has been returning to the Fashion Institute of Technology, my alma mater, to serve the next generation of artists, designers, and creatives.

There is something deeply meaningful about walking the same halls that once developed me, and now I'm helping students begin artistic and innovative journeys of their own.

After nearly ten years in higher education admissions, I still believe every application represents so much more than grades or portfolios. Behind every file is a person carrying hopes, fears, dreams, and limitless possibilities.

Purpose has a beautiful way of finding us where passion and service meet.

Each day reminds me that I am exactly where I'm supposed to be.

When work meets Stillness

Earlier this month, I had the privilege of presenting my burnout workshop at the NYSACAC Coming Together Conference and Annual Conference at Nazareth University in Rochester, NY

Standing before colleagues and speaking about rest, well-being, and intentional living felt incredibly affirming.

I'm constantly reminded that conversations about wellness don't belong only in yoga studios or meditation spaces.

They belong everywhere.

Especially at work.

For years, I've encouraged others to pause.

To breathe.

To make room for rest.

This season gently reminded me that I needed those same words.

So I listened.

Rest is no longer something I squeeze in after everything else gets done.

It's something I prioritize.

Because rest isn't a reward.

It's our birthright.

Joy is our birthright, too.

So I paused in May & June. I made room for rest and joy. Now it's built in. I schedule it. I look forward to it. I cherish it. I expect it. You should, too, friend!

Rest is not a reward for finishing everything on your to-do list or to sustain ourselves while doing meaningful work.

Rest is our birthright. Rest belongs to us. Joy is our birthright. Joy belongs to us.

If you haven't already downloaded my Burnout Guide. Use Password: NYSACAC2026. I hope it serves as a gentle reminder to care for yourself with the same compassion you so freely extend to everyone else.

Joy Along the Way

While at the conference, I built in some joy and contemplative moments. An outdoor paint and sip brought me joy. A stroll along the Erie Canal in the town of Pittsford. Visited the Strong National Museum of Play. There I was able to tap into my childhood and enjoy nostalgic video games like Donkey Kong, Pac-Man, Super Mario Bros., and more! I caught the beginning of Game 3 of the NBA Finals at Ferrarii Pizza Bar.

While traveling home from Rochester, I gave myself permission to wander.

I drove over to Canandaigua Lake to see the boat houses and have ice cream.

I wandered through Woodstock, one of my favorite little towns in New York.

I picked up my very first gong, a handmade bracelet, and a few intention sprays that somehow felt like tiny souvenirs of who I'm becoming but will be used during some of my sessions and rituals.

None of these stops was necessary.

And that is exactly the point.

Sometimes joy lives in the unplanned moments. You just need to snatch it.

Sometimes restoration looks like taking the scenic route simply because you can.

THE MOUNTAIN

One stop along the way took me into the Catskills.

I had hoped to visit a retreat center tucked away on top of a mountain.

Without much planning (a very "me" move), I just drove there.

The farther I climbed, the quieter everything became. I thought about sundown towns.

By the time I reached the property, the sun was beginning to set.

I was alone.

The space was unfamiliar. I had literally just driven through the woods.

My body told me what my mind hadn't yet admitted. I started sweating.

It was time to leave.

As I drove back down the mountain, I realized something.

Listening to myself wasn't fear, although it felt like it.

It was wisdom, because I knew better.

Later that evening, the retreat reached out after seeing my message and warmly invited me back.

I'll return someday.

One day...

Perhaps Still by Z will host its own retreat there.

Some dreams begin while being still.

This one certainly did.

The Sound of Stillness

Over the past several months, I've had the privilege of facilitating Community Sound Baths at the Dream Center in Harlem.

Each gathering teaches me something new.

About sound.

About people.

About the energy & experience.

About what happens when someone finally permits themselves to rest.

The audible sighs.

The softened shoulders.

The conversations afterward.

The willingness to lie down, silence the phone, close the eyes, and receive.

I love doing this work.

I'm not chasing perfection.

I'm focused on creating spaces where people feel safe enough to exhale.

Every gathering makes me a better practitioner.

A better listener.

A better human being.

As Still by Z continues to grow, I'm beginning to imagine what's next.

I'm exploring opportunities to partner with intentional spaces throughout Harlem and beyond, where more people can experience the gift of collective rest.

I'm mindfully shopping for more instruments and things that will bring more comfort to the space.

The vision is evolving.

But the intention remains the same.

Stillness.

This month's gathering centered on the heart. It's the sweet place where compassion, forgiveness, joy, connection, and love live within us.

"My heart is open to receive the energy of love. I radiate this essence. I walk my path with ease and grace." - Heart Chakra affirmation

A Juneteenth Practice

This year, I celebrated Juneteenth differently.

I had grandiose plans.

Several of them.

But my spirit had another idea.

No rushing.

No overpacked schedule.

Just room to breathe.

I spent the day slowly.

Music playing.

Windows down.

Books waiting for me at a sidewalk sale.

Enjoyed a delectible Pastry, a delicious cookie, and rose lemonade.

By evening, I found myself exactly where I needed to be.

Surrounded by Black women for a beautifully curated yoga and sound experience centered around Sacred Remembrance.

We opened with a collective sip of hand-blended herbal tea.

The calling in ceremony set the tone for journaling.

One journal prompt stayed with me:

What does freedom mean to you?

As we moved through the yoga practice, our teacher reminded us to trust the support behind us.

To lean into our back line.

To remember our ancestors.

Standing there, holding the dancer pose, I realized that I have everything I need to sustain challenging and uncomfortable situations with beauty, strength, poise, and grace.

We are supported in more ways than we often remember.

Sometimes freedom is remembering we don't have to hold ourselves up alone.

Toni Warner (Yoga Instructor) gifted us all with a beautiful herbal tea that she hand-blended. She encouraged us to open the jar so the tea would receive the essence of our practice. And before leaving, we also received an invitation to bless it. I chose to bless mine with dried Juniper; others used palo santo. Ahhhh, now my tea was ready to take home to drink, or to prepare a tea bath as another act of care.

I know I smiled the entire drive home.

This monthly ritual has quietly become one of the most restorative rhythms in my life. It is truly a balm for my soul. The fact that it landed on Juneteenth this month felt poetic & liberating.

Finding freedom in stillness does not require special tools or settings. Know that it can be woven into daily life with simple, intentional practices:

Create small pauses: Take a few minutes each day to breathe deeply and notice your surroundings.
Limit distractions: Turn off notifications or step away from screens to reduce noise.
Practice mindful listening: Whether in nature or during sound baths, focus on sounds without judgment.
Journal your reflections: Write down thoughts, dreams, or feelings to process and understand them better.
Allow yourself rest: Recognize that rest is productive and necessary for creativity and healing.