We chase joy like it’s something rare—something that arrives only after everything is in place. But joy isn’t a reward for fixing your life. It’s a resource for living it.
Joy lives in the ordinary. The soft. The slow.
It’s in the rhythm of your breath on a walk that asks nothing of you.
It’s in the warmth of your coffee mug, cradled like a small blessing.
It’s in the smile of a stranger who sees you. The giggle of a child who doesn’t care how the day looks.
To practice joy is to rewire your eyes to see what the soul already knows:
That life is happening right now—not in the future you’re trying to perfect.
Joy does not deny sorrow. It expands your capacity to hold it.
Joy is what keeps us alive in the midst of ache.
It’s what reminds us we are more than what we carry.
You don’t need to wait for joy.
You just need to make room for it—again and again and again.