How to find joy
Be a joy seeker in a grown-up world
I went for a dog walk with my friend this week. Midway through our chat and stroll, my nuts-for-netball pal shared with me the news that she’s been offered a managerial role with a premier league netball team. It’s such a lovely bit of news. I have no doubt that she’ll light a few fires and drive momentum. Brilliant.
But here’s the interesting part. There is no pay. She will share her wonderful wisdom and dedicate time, passion and positive energy with no financial remuneration. And why? She’ll do it because it takes her to her sweet spot. When she’s watching, playing or umpiring netball she loses all time and stress. She flies in her safe space with no to-do list, no inner critic and no past pains rattling around her head. She does it for sheer joy.
It got me thinking about joy. It’s an accessible and cheap high if you know how to cultivate it. It’s the antidote to the heavy stuff that comes with being an adult. It would be great if it were handed out on prescription. However, here’s the reality – no one can hand it to you or do it for you. Joy comes from knowing oneself, from having an honest appreciation of what makes you tick. And it comes from giving yourself permission to go there.
You should believe that you are worthy of bringing yourself joy, so you can go on being lighthouses of love to all those you meet and care for.
Some people know exactly where this joy lives. Some may need to work it out. Here are some pointers to help you on your hunt for joy:
1. Get to grips with what joy is (and isn’t)
Joy is not a happy ever after.
Thanks to the growth of capitalism, we’ve spent decades being hugely miss-sold on what joy and happiness are. We’ve been told that we can buy it with a new shiny car, a snazzy handbag or a super skin serum. The truth is that any purchase leads to a momentary high which then naturally levels off after a short time. Using money to get your joy fix isn’t the healthiest way to go about it. It’s going to create a slightly bigger drop off every time.
It’s also important to know that, even when you get to the crux of how to find authentic self-perpetuated joy, it won’t last forever. There is no permanent state of joy. Like all other emotions it moves on. Even the natural joy that comes from within naturally ebbs and flows. The trick is to accept all emotions and accept the good, the bad the ugly.
So, a bit of a bum note there. However, once you can grasp this, you can move on from being distressed or resentful in the middle of the hard times. You can rest assured that it is going to pass. You can also start to realise that seeking joy is hugely important to give yourself a breather. A tiny bit of time and space where there is no struggle, no suffering. Just as pain exists, so does joy. Just as night exists so does day. You’ve got all you need to access both, which is an exciting and very human reality.
2. Ask your ‘little you’ what makes them happy
The kind of joy I am talking about is the kind you had as a kid. The kind when you lost yourself in an activity. Not because someone was going to give you a reward sticker or it was on your chore list. You were probably lost in the roleplay, the game or the movement through your own freewill.
As you moved through childhood and into adulthood, you tweaked your behaviour based on a whole host of things. This included parental and teacher approval, societal trends and friendship wins. Certain behaviours delivered greater rewards and chances are that along the way you lent towards the things that also gave others satisfaction. Overtime you probably let go and even forgot about some of the things you did in creative play or your quiet time. Things that made you intensely happy and lost in space.
My advice to you is to go back there. Ask yourself what your little you fancies doing to lose time. The little you who didn’t particularly seek approval or worry what people thought or needed.
3. Cast out your net
So, to work out how the little you can translate to real-life now in the grown-up world you may need to experiment.
This is exciting. It means you are giving yourself permission to play. Perhaps the fact you liked dancing in your room means it’s time to consider a movement class, a yoga inversions session or just a good old dance in the kitchen. Perhaps the fact you were happiest at cubs means it’s time to help at a forest school, just build a den or light a lovely fire outside. Literally just because you can.
Play, experiment, explore. Don’t hold back because you feel silly. There has never been a more inviting time to just dive in. We are more open than ever before to this. Don’t worry about giving your joy time a label or filing it in your grown-up categories. You may find joy in pottery, in making things without a recipe or just in stroking the bark of a tree. The reality is you can access lots of joy moments once you let go of your rigid grown-up ways. Stay present and play. Say yes to more and see where you end up.
4. Keep it to yourself
Here’s an interesting one. To truly test your joy factor, why not just keep it to yourself, if not forever, just for a little while? The moment you share what you are doing in life you open yourself and your actions to judgment. To positive approval, to collaboration, to criticism, to envy and a whole host of other things that are outside of you. Once you go there you are often serving your ego and not the real you inside.
It’s quite liberating to see how you feel when you hold back on what you share. When you carve out moments and actions that are just for you and not for everyone else’s approval.
And before I go
When I was small, I loved playing libraries. I could spend hours talking to my customers (who didn’t exist) about the books in my room. I’d put little homemade tickets inside each book. I’d sign them out and in, out and in. I felt so alive doing that. I found joy in forming the letters and creating order from my little systems.
And although I don’t play the same game now, one of my joy spots comes from moments like this. Tip tapping away, losing time. I drop my shoulders and forget the world. Words spin around in my head dancing about and then they pick a partner or two. They land together in front of me and then more dancing happens. A blank page suddenly fills up with lots of little gatherings and parties. Before I know it, I’ve created something I can read. I go back and forth and back and forth. I take away miss-matches and crop out rambles. I get to the end and I feel like I have been on a long walk or a bike ride somewhere. Closing the laptop is like climbing back out of the wardrobe in Narnia. It’s my grown-up game of librarians, still on my own, still smiling as the words come together.
Good luck with your joy-seeking.
I’d love to hear how you get on.
