Joy is Steady
Open up. Lean in. Witness.
There are some months when joy arrives easily—when the sky feels wider, the days feel softer, and laughter lives closer to the surface. And then there are months like June—when everything is in motion when grief and beauty move in the same breath, and you have to choose joy, not stumble into it.
This is a month for anchoring.
Joy, when it’s steady, doesn’t mean things are perfect. It means you’ve found something worth holding onto in the chaos. It’s the kind of joy that keeps you from floating too far when life tries to pull you under. Not flashy. Not loud. But reliable.
For me, this kind of joy has shown up in the smallest ways:
Washing strawberries in the kitchen while my kids color a few feet away. Walking by peach trees in ATL this weekend. Answering a text from a friend who knows how and when to check on me, at just the right time. Sliding into cold sheets with my heating pad after a long day.
On this path, we have to start remembering that we deserve to absorb joy in motion. Joy in the middle of responsibility. Joy that reminds us: You’re still here. Open up. Lean in. Witness.
This month, I’m not chasing temporary delights. I’m after steady joy—the kind that doesn’t flinch when the hard stuff shows up. The kind that stays, even when the days are full, the emotions are layered, and nothing feels especially easy. I want joy that can hold its own in real life—not joy that waits for perfect conditions to arrive.
Gentle Reminder: Your tenderness and joy can exist together—you deserve both. You can hold them in tandem.
What I’m learning as I continue to show up for this practice is that being anchored in joy has nothing to do with escaping reality. It’s about choosing what helps you stay centered inside of it. You don’t need to become someone else or overhaul your life. You just need to notice what steadies you—and make space for it.
Here’s how we’re approaching it this month:
Start small. Look for one steady joy each day—a song, a scent, a sentence that settles you.
Name it. When you feel a flicker of joy, say it out loud. Write it down. Don’t let it pass by unnoticed.
Build rituals. Give joy a place to return to. Maybe it’s lighting a candle before you write or stretching while your coffee/tea brews.
Let it evolve. Your anchor might change from week to week. That’s okay. Stay curious about what’s working for you.
Don’t wait. Don’t save joy for after the to-do list or after the healing. Let it live in real time.
Some questions to reflect on this month:
What does “anchored joy” look like in your daily life—not your ideal life, but your actual one?
What simple practice can you commit to that brings you back to yourself?
Who or what helps you feel emotionally sturdy—and how can you keep that/them close?
The truth is that joy doesn’t need to be extravagant to be transformative. It just needs to be honest. Consistent. Something you return to without needing to perform or perfect it.
This month, I hope you don’t just chase moments of happiness—I hope you root into something deeper. Let joy be the thing that steadies you, not just the thing that excites you. You're allowed to feel good right here, even if nothing is finished—even if everything is still unfolding.
Let that be enough to anchor you into the small delights of your life.
With you always,
Alex
Gratitude Journal is a free community newsletter. If you'd like to support my work, please consider subscribing and sharing. If you’re looking to monetarily support, buying my books, merch, or joining me at a retreat or workshop are options. I even made two perfumes and a candle for us! I have plenty of offerings for you to choose from. I'm grateful for your support in whatever capacity.
Sisterhood is Sacred Update:
Do you remember the SISTERHOOD IS SACRED sweatshirts I made to support a dear friend?
They were for
—one of my closest friends. With her blessing, I can finally share her name. Last week, I launched a GoFundMe for her, and thanks to community support, we’re already 65% funded. Fina has been my sister in life for 8 years. With her divorce court date approaching, she and her twin boys urgently need continued support. She made the courageous decision to leave an emotionally abusive marriage and begin again. Until last week, she had no legal representation—I covered her lawyer’s retainer, but she needs a village behind her now. If you’re able, please donate. If not, sharing the link still helps more than you know.Every share, every dollar, and every prayer matters. Love you always, Fina. Through the fire and beyond.
I love this so much. Thank you. Your substack serves as such a beautiful tender and loving reminder of things my body knows but my mind tries to block out.
You have such a beautiful way with words. Thank you for your light. ❤️