Life is often measured by milestones – graduations, weddings, promotions, new beginnings. We mark our calendars, take photos, and celebrate the big things. But in between those moments, there are long stretches of ordinary days. Days that can feel repetitive, uncertain, or heavy.
And yet, I’ve found that it’s often those ordinary days that hold the quietest joys, if I’m willing to notice them.
🌿 Why Small Joys Matter
There have been seasons in my life when joy felt far away. When the waiting grew heavy, when uncertainty clouded the horizon, when hope seemed fragile. In those times, the idea of “choosing joy” felt almost impossible.
But joy doesn’t always come in grand, sweeping gestures. More often, it’s found in the smallest details, a warm mug in my hands, sunlight spilling through the window, laughter that catches me by surprise. These small joys may not erase the hard parts of life, but they soften the edges.
They remind me that life is still happening here, in the middle of everything.
☕ What Joy Looks Like in My Days
For me, joy often looks ordinary. It’s not dramatic of dazzling, it’s subtle, steady, almost hidden.
- The first sip of coffee in the morning
- A soft blanket wrapped around me on a cool evening
- A walk through the neighborhood as the sky turns colors
- Football on a cool Saturday
- A conversation with my husband, who listens without judgement
These are small things, but they are real. They are reminders that beauty exists alongside the struggle.
🌸 The Practice of Noticing
Holding on to joy requires noticing. It’s easy to move through the day without pausing ling enough to see what’s good. But when I slow down, I begin to notice things I would otherwise overlook, the patterns of leaves against the sky, the smell of something baking, the way laughter lingers after a joke.
This kind of noticing feels like an act of defiance against despair. It’s choosing to say, “Even here, even now, I will look for what its good.”
Some days, joy is hard to find. But even then, I’ve learned that noticing can be enough, even if all I see is one small thing.
🌙 Joy and Grief Together
It’s important to say that holding onto joy doesn’t mean ignoring pain. Grief and joy often coexist. There are days when I feel the ache of what I long for, and at the same time, I feel gratitude for the simple gift of sunlight or a kind word.
Both can be true . Both can belong. And perhaps that’s the real beauty of small joys, they remind us that even in hard seasons, life still offers us glimpses of goodness.
🌱 Ways to Invite More Joy
If you’re looking to hold on to joy in your own days, here are a few gentle practices that might help:
- Keep a joy journal: write down one thing each day that made you smile, no matter how small.
- Create small rituals: light a candle at dinner, make your bed with intention, take a five-minute walk outside.
- Use your senses: notice what you see, hear, smell, taste, and touch throughout the day.
- Celebrate tiny victories: finishing a task, cooking a meal, resting when you need to
Joy doesn’t always arrive on its own, sometimes we have to create space for it.
✨ Closing Reflection
Joy is not always loud, and it’s not always easy. But it’s always worth noticing. In the middle of ordinary days and uncertain seasons, joy waits quietly for us in the smallest details.
Holding on to joy doesn’t mean ignoring hardship. It means remembering that even in the hardest times, life can still surprise us with moments of beauty.
So today, I’m holding on – not to the idea of constant happiness, but to the quiet joy of small, ordinary moments.
“Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy.” – Thích Nhất Hạnh