Some days, the weight of the world feels unbearable. The news is heavy, responsibilities pile up, and even the smallest tasks can feel like too much. It's easy for me to get lost in the hard things, if I’m being honest. However, I am realizing, now more than ever, that joy can be a quiet rebellion. A gentle resistance. A way of reminding myself that even in the midst of struggle and grief, there is still the possibility for me to notice the flickering joys—even if from a distance. Why? Because I am alive and still get to.
I started joy journaling years ago in a season of deep emotional exhaustion. Life felt like too much to hold. Writing felt like a huge mountain to climb. I didn't have the energy for long reflections, or deep dives on the page. I needed something simple that wouldn't feel like another daunting task. So, I started a joy jar. Each day, on slips of paper, I'd write down one thing that made me smile, one soft place I had landed—a warm cup of tea on a cold morning, a nod from a stranger while on my morning walk, the feeling of my cold satin pillow after a long day. Then, I'd fold the paper and drop it into a mason jar, watching the joy pile up, each slip of paper serving as a reminder that goodness was surrounding me. By the end of the month, the jar would be full. In the following month, on the days when things felt dull, I'd reach in, unfold a memory, and let it remind me that joy was always there, waiting to be noticed.
This small and intentional act changed me. It shifted my focus from what is missing to what is present. Over the years, this practice has deepened my gratitude, softened my heart, and taught me that joy—no matter how tiny, mundane, or simple—is always worth holding onto. I’m doing a variation of that practice this year, but using a planner. It’s been fun to jot down my small moments. I’ve been calling it ‘joy spotting.’ I look forward to revisiting this planner at the end of the year and seeing all the joy I’ve witnessed/welcomed/paid attention to.
Life can sometimes feel like an endless loop of doing, giving, and problem-solving—like we're holding our breath or waiting for a breakthrough. But I've found that writing down moments of joy creates space for presence—in a journal, a planner, or on scraps of paper that go in a jar. Instead of waiting for joy to find me, I’m intentionally looking for it—getting up close to the micro-moments and handling them with curiosity and care. Small shifts can change so much. Jotting down one simple joy each day helps me reframe my inner dialogue. Rather than dwelling on what's missing or messy, I try my best to notice what’s good, steady, and true. This practice doesn’t erase the hard things, but it does remind me they aren’t the only things.
Joy is always there, waiting to be seen.
I hope this newsletter is a gentle reminder to anyone feeling stuck, overwhelmed, or disconnected from the world around them. I hope it helps whoever needs it realize that your joy is a gift. One sentence. One moment. One day at a time. I welcome you to write about how the breeze feels on your skin, the deep breath you took before speaking up for yourself, or the song that played at the right time. I challenge you to notice, to surrender, to open up—just a little more. The joy you spot doesn’t have to be grand to be glorious. Some days, it will feel obvious—a long hug, a big win, a moment of deep laughter. On other days, it may feel like searching for a sliver of sunshine in the shade of your sadness. And that's okay. It’s all okay—let it be. Even your smallest joys count. With time, this practice can rewire how we see ourselves and the world. Practice creates ritual, clarity, and deeper awareness.
Leaning into joy reminds me that I am here—and for that—even on the cloudy days, I am grateful.
Instead of waiting for joy to find us, we have to learn to look for it. Instead of feeling stuck in what's missing, we have to recognize the quiet abundance that was there all along. I made a video last week (linked below) all about joy journaling to help you/me/us pay closer attention to the small treasures joy can unearth in our lives. I know, it is not always easy. I am eight days into my first joy practice of the year, and it has been quite challenging—especially with the state of the world. However, I am trying to remember that letting joy take up space is my birthright.
Joy spotting isn't about pacifying our darkness. It's about welcoming the light, even if it's just a flicker. If you embark on this practice with me, I hope it reminds you that there is still something worth holding onto, even in the toughest seasons.
PS. My next virtual writing workshop “Fill the Well” is on March 9th at 1PM EST. Christine Platt of The Afrominimalist will be guest teaching with me. You can get on the waitlist below. The registration page opens on Monday 2/10 at 5PM EST.
Gratitude Journal is a free (bi-weekly'ish) community newsletter. If you'd like to support my work, please consider subscribing and sharing this free Substack. If you’re looking to monetarily support, buying my books, listening to my podcast, or joining me at a retreat or workshop are options. I even made a perfume for us! I have plenty of offerings for you to choose from. I'm grateful for your support in whatever capacity.
I love this. Recently I made a vision board with pictures of the small, simple things that bring me joy - and the act of focusing on them has already made a big difference to my daily wellbeing. Especially in tough times, holding on to joy is so important!
Thank you for this lovely reminder to seek out the small joys of life! I’ve been trying to allow good things to flow to me but I think balance is important here: We can seek it out and let it flow. Here’s to more ‘joy spotting!’