The irony of the Squarespace WYSIWYG simultaneously suggesting AI support as I type my first entry for a 31-day writing practice is not lost on me. I love technology. I love communicating on many forms of social media. Some would argue too many. They’re likely correct, but that’s not joyous so I’m afraid I’m forced to pivot in the name of consistency and commitment to the theme.
I have always loved writing. One of my fondest childhood memories was watching in stunned shock as Mrs. Tripaldi read my step-by-step guide to carving a pumpkin to the class. I definitely felt joy, but I think what I felt more was inspired. It was then that I decided I would become a journalist and make my life’s work all about words.
In reality, my communications degree led me to marketing, primarily in the nonprofit space. I’ve always found roles that allow me to write for action, or punchy creativity, or to connect the reader with a mission. After a decade and a half, I’ve found this type of writing (checks notes) dull and draining.
Shocking, right? This is the kind of revolutionary breakthrough my lack of a writing habit is withholding from the public!
I leapt at the chance to join this writing project for the month of August as a way to find my way back to the kind of writing that leads me…elsewhere. Regardless of the outcome, and if it sparks a change in my relationship to writing, I do hope it will be a net positive, because the topic alone rooted my desire to commit.
I want need more joy in my life. Sure, we can manufacture moments to yield joy. That’s not what this is about, for me (and no shade on anyone who prefers to find joy that way, either!).
I need more joy generated from within. The kind of joy that allows you to pause and appreciate a sunset and a good cup of whatever your drink of choice may be. The kind that leads to you being nicer to yourself. Noticing your triggers and not reacting to them. The kind that allows you to feel gratitude from deep within for the experience of the moment.
Our first prompt was to share the ways we believe joy differs from happiness. And I think that the last year of my life — the most challenging yet — can help outline my thoughts.
One year ago I miscarried our spontaneous pregnancy at seven weeks. Since then, we have been through two unsuccessful rounds of IVF. We are downsizing this month to create more financial stability. Inflation makes it feel like we’ll never reach the goals we assumed were achievable given our household income, strong credit, and modest savings. In comparison to our peers, it feels like we are being left behind.
Amid the depressive haze of the last 12 months, there were so many moments of joy. Our pregnancy after years of unsuccessful attempts; travels to local, domestic, and international destinations; my becoming a certified yoga teacher, and an aunt, to name a few. And therein is my reference for how joy and happiness are not the same thing. Joy is a moment, or an experience. It could be a person. A song. A tradition or a specific place.
Joy is not happiness. Joy is the pursuit of happiness. And given my current malaise, it’s in my best interest to actively run toward happiness, and joy, in even the tiniest form, is the best place to begin. I crave the stability, perspective, and sense of self it can become. Joy is fleeting but when repeatedly called out and acknowledged, can spawn a more solid foundation of happiness.
This season of my life has been lived in the most basic sense; my heart beats as my lungs fill with air. But I’ve not existed in a present or grateful way and doing so has fanned the flames of my depression, anxiety, and unforgiving self-loathing. I need some solid ground rooted in the good stuff I’ve been missing, especially of late.
So, with this first entry feeling complete, is there really much more to say?
Let’s go get it.