On Joy, Rituals, and the Stories We Tell Ourselves
Dear Reader,
Why am I just now noticing that we have been together for over two years now? My first post was Feb. 15, 2023 and it was from the urging of my friend Russell that I start one. He thought, perhaps based on conversations at the time, that I would write about something else.
However, when has anyone known me to do anything I am told to do?
Precisely.
I didn’t know what this newsletter would become. I knew that I needed healing from a breakup at the time. But now here we are — a book later and we know who we are together. We write about writing, and healing, and life. We shoot the breeze, talk about book banning, and literature. We think in vignettes and in whole essays. And so the question about what is this Substack, what are these dispatches that I write from this mythical land of the Keyframe, is answered this way: we are what we are and what we need to be in the moment.
Also, again, when has anyone known me to do anything I am told to do in the way people expect me to do it?
I digress.
I am working on a post on my reading of The Great Gatsby, which is about writing technique. Yes, that is forthcoming. Today, however, I’m going to zig where you might expect me to zag. The Gatsby post is coming. Today, I want to talk about joy
Alex Elle is one of my favorite people on Substack and in general. During the beginning of this publication, I came across her on the Ritual app and did her gratitude meditation every day. To this day I create the meditation as part of my recovery from heartbreak and the subsequent ache. Then I discovered her books and her Substack and even did a writing workshop with her (super early in the morning).
Lately, she has been writing about joy. She’s not only writing about the having of it but the finding of joy, but more importantly the cataloguing of it. Moments of joy are fleeting. They appear, they are enjoyed, and then they are gone, like the flutter of a butterfly wing. This is why she writes down the moment of joy on her calendar. It’s just ritualistic how she does it. (And if you have followed her any amount of time, her drinking of tea is quite ritualistic).
This cataloguing joy was intriguing to me. I have felt myself growing pessimistic lately to the point I had to stop and remind myself that I really do have a beautiful life. I live in abundance, though it is difficult to keep that perspective with every single thing happening now. Joy spotting seems to be something that helps me manage and grounds me. It’s also a reminder that in the middle of a hurricane there is always a calm center.
This reminds me of an entry in The Book of Awakening by Mark Nepo for May 10, “The Edge of Center”. In it he discusses the peaceful center. It starts like this:
“From across the centuries, this nameless voice tells us that at the heart of all struggle there is a peaceful enduring center, if we can only reach it.”
This center he discusses is for us to “draw sustenance from that central eternal space without denying the experience of the storm.” Joy spotting seems to be that center of the storm, something to draw sustenance from to continue on. Whether it is fighting the good fight or bravely marching forward, joy spotting could be the thing — the why.
So, I have done it for most of April and now a big chunk of May. Here is what I am noticing:
It gets so much easier to find moments of joy every day.
But it is fleeting. If I forget a day, I forget the moment and that makes me sad.
The joyful moments don’t have to be big, they can be small. Even a flicker. Most are.
Even on bad days there is joy. There is gratitude. It’s amazing, but there is. Not sure why that is, but I’ll take it.
The minimum — write down the moment on the calendar. Optimal — take a picture. There is something about documenting joy that just hits differently. A friend once told me to document my life as if I’m telling a story. To this day it’s one of the best pieces of advice I’ve gotten.
Make it a ritual. Day time, night time, lunch time — it doesn’t matter. Make a date with yourself to write it down and reflect.
Be specific — it was a good day? Okay, why? You just need a spark.
You don’t have to share unless you want to. These are your moments and your ritual. It’s personal.
And above all, the thing I have noticed is that life is, indeed, beautiful.
I leave you now with a gallery of photos from April and May with no explanations or captions. These are some of my joyful moments from the past two months. I believe the kids are calling this “vibes”. Ha! Hope you enjoy the vibes.
Living in joy,
Icess
