Rediscovering Joy
Photo courtesy Juan Cruz Mountford
Joy is a thread that weaves itself quietly through the fabric of our lives, often unnoticed until it slips from our grasp. We lose it sometimes, distracted by the cacophony of politics, conflict, and the weight of the world’s struggles. In those moments, joy feels distant, almost like a forgotten language we once spoke fluently but now stumble over in the dark. But here’s the truth—joy never truly leaves us. It’s patient, waiting in the quiet spaces, the soft edges of our days, asking only that we notice it again.
We discover joy in the smallest places—through laughter shared with a friend, the way sunlight warms our skin, or the feeling of being alive in a world that, despite everything, still holds beauty. Rediscovering joy is an act of reclaiming those moments, of broadening our gaze beyond the immediate chaos to see what has been there all along. It’s an invitation to breathe, to remember, to reconnect with the part of ourselves that knows how to dance, even when the music of life has grown faint.
In these times, finding joy isn’t about denying the darkness; it’s about learning to live within it and still find light. It’s a practice, a community act, a reminder that joy is a shared story, one we write together. In reaching out to one another, in sharing our struggles and our small victories, we create a collective heartbeat that keeps us going. And in that pulse, we find that joy isn’t lost—it’s waiting for us to turn our heads and say, “I see you.”
Photo courtesy Kolby Milton
“In fact no one recognizes the happiest moment of their lives as they are living it. It may well be that, in a moment of joy, one might sincerely believe that they are living that golden instant "now," even having lived such a moment before, but whatever they say, in one part of their hearts they still believe in the certainty of a happier moment to come. Because how could anyone, and particularly anyone who is still young, carry on with the belief that everything could only get worse: If a person is happy enough to think he has reached the happiest moment of his life, he will be hopeful enough to believe his future will be just as beautiful, more so.”
Three questions to ponder:
Did we lose joy?
If so, how?
Can we get it back?
The Process & Coffee Learning Circle shares their responses below.
Bill McClellan
I am drawn to joy, remember joyful times, express & give joy as much as I know. It was never something to have or to lose. Although maybe once I thought it was.
Having maybe once imagining joy a thing to be had or to lose, I believe this imagining to be the way to again ‘lose’ what cannot be ‘had’ in the first place. To dwell upon the ‘how’ of losing joy may encourage the repetition of the feeling of loss. Don’t think of a green monkey.
Thus joy (joyful times, delightful dynamics, satisfying relations, honorable effects…the characterization of ‘joy’ is an open topic) is never to be retrieved, never to be gotten ‘back.’ If the flavor of joy again imbues a moment, it is more a creative affirmation (sometimes with discerning negations) of a synthesis of unfolding ongoing events of all living participants, and not a restoration of an antique configuration of powers. It doesn’t come ‘back’; it just comes. The flavor may be familiar but should also be new; otherwise a mere habit is implicated.
The reflections and affirmations—the critical thoughts--of a worthy community are essential to the education of my taste for joy. I am grateful to be so grateful for our circle.
“‘Without pain, how could we know joy?’ This is an old argument in the field of thinking about suffering and its stupidity and lack of sophistication could be plumbed for centuries but suffice it to say that the existence of broccoli does not, in any way, affect the taste of chocolate.”
Thomas Attwood
My main candidate for helping us find our way back to joy is the motivating energy of a process and panexperientialist worldview, the power of love and the mind, and the consciousness of interbeing. A living universe opens new possibilities of experience, and hope for a human future worth living in. These possibilities are both personal and collective, challenging us to call official stories into question and embrace the vulnerability of healing journeys. Yes, we don’t want to feel sad feelings. Yet repressing them only makes them reappear as something worse, such as truncated emotional range, mental breakdown, or violence. As Carl Jung said, “When an inner situation is not made conscious, it appears outside as fate.”
Healing practices can start small — one act of kindness or service at a time. You don't have to start by standing in the way of bulldozers or riot police. Every act of kindness is practice. Most judgments are not. Raising a child humanely is great practice. So is teaching, gardening, building, caregiving, creating art, healing, shared meals, community celebration, and ritual. I'm describing the undervalued essential workers all around us. More people are assimilating the messages of quantum science and complexity theory every year. We’re waking up to the power of the mind, emotional intelligence, creativity, attentive observation, and living into our interconnectedness. We need more role models to practice interbeing, and transform the story of separation. We’ll probably have to develop new dialects of English (and all languages of colonial cultures) to create space for the alchemy of metamorphosis.
Photo courtesy Klara Kulikova
Photo courtesy Lidya Nada
Lynn De Jonghe
I believe that these are gifts that we can give each other.
Treasures of Late Life (adapted from The Inner Work of Age by Connie Zweig). Releasing the past so that it no longer controls how we feel or act now
- Releasing hurt, anger, and regret by reframing our relationships
- Cultivating a sense of self-acceptance of who we are now
- Finder a broader and deeper view of our life story
- Reclaiming our creativity and exploring its joys
- Cultivating a quieter mind, freeing us from negative emotions
- Experiencing a deeper identity that can free us from past roles and responsibilities
- Discovering a revitalized energy that opens us to play, beauty and gratitude
- Reconnecting with activism and service, which connects us to a broader community
- Living with a renewed orientation toward the future that includes our evolutionary purpose and legacy
Following a spiritual path that nourishes our reverence for life, that recognizes that that all life exists in interconnected systems of being, that deepens our appreciation of the wonders of existence and the beauty of the world, that broadens our sense of humility and gratitude, and that guides our continuing search for spiritual meaning
“I don't think of all the misery, but of the beauty that still remains.”
Kat Reeves
Joy is not a constant we can grasp, but a dynamic, shifting force—more like the wind that stirs the leaves than something solid we can hold in our hands. It moves through our lives in cycles, appearing in the quietest moments or bursting forth in unexpected waves. It isn’t something we can force or chase, but rather something we must open ourselves to, like catching a glimpse of sunlight through the cracks of a storm-clouded sky. Joy, in its purest form, is relational. It finds us when we meet the world with openness—when we stop, listen, and notice the small, sacred pockets of beauty hidden within even the most difficult times.
In trying moments, joy doesn’t leave us; it simply changes its form. It’s found in the comforting warmth of a friend’s voice, the steady rhythm of breath as we pause to reflect, or the quiet resilience of nature continuing its ancient dance, unaffected by our human turmoil. These pockets of joy—small but potent—become lifelines, reminders that even amidst struggle, there are moments where life still hums with beauty, laughter, and connection.
We are never too far from joy; it’s woven into the very fabric of existence. It asks only that we become still enough, present enough, to notice it, to let it in—even when the world around us feels heavy. Joy is not a denial of difficulty but a reminder that, despite everything, the world is still alive with possibility.
Photo courtesy Leo Rivas
Ernie Tamminga
Did we lose joy?
No, I’m sure I saw it here somewhere, just a moment ago.
Now, where did I put it…?
Oh, There It Is! – In your eyes!
Maybe you had your eyes shut for a little while. Or maybe I did.
But now I see you, and I see you seeing me.
Joy is back.
And yet, yes, these are dangerous times, with no assurance of safety.
So please keep hold of my hand, and let me know you’re there.
Let me know we’re here.
“Joy is the surest sign of the presence of God”, said Pierre Teilhard de Chardin.
