A book I’ve often mentioned before, Atomic Habits, says that the habit of exercising starts with a simple act: putting your shoes on. That one intentional act sets everything else in motion, which then has the potential to become a habit.
This morning, as I laced up my walking shoes, my dog was already dancing with excitement. Walking is as much her joy as it is my therapy. Watching her sniff the air, ears perked, tail wagging, I couldn’t help but think — this is joy. Simple. Uncomplicated. Pure.
It made me wonder how often we overlook the things that bring us joy because we’re too distracted, too burdened, or too entangled in negativity. Joy, more often than not, begins with a small, intentional act — a choice to move, to breathe, to notice, to appreciate.
The Thieves of Joy
There are people in this world whose mission seems to be robbing others of peace. I’ve met them — in business, in life, and once memorably, in a legal dispute. There was an attorney (we’ll call her E.B. — you can imagine what that stands for in my house) whose relentless hostility was like a sport to her. She thrived on bullying, lying, conflict, billable hours and was intent on hate-filled rhetoric.
The subject of her evil, I thought, “what a miserable way to live.” What must it be like to wake up every day looking for a fight? To find purpose in tearing others down instead of building anything worthwhile? To live in that head and heartspace?
I also wondered about the people that she surrounds herself with – does she treat them the same, does she lie to them as much as she did in my situation, are they beaten down in every conversation? How must it be to work with her – I feel for her employees because I am very doubtful of her being a fair or fun boss to have!
It’s easy to spot the EBs of the world, but sometimes, the joy thieves aren’t people at all. Sometimes, they’re the steady drip of discouragement from headlines, hateful social media posts, or the endless chaos that seems to dominate public discourse.
I don’t troll the news or scroll through Facebook for that very reason. I find that much of what passes as “information” today is simply noise designed to provoke outrage or to prove someone’s chosen path. And when I hear what some of our so-called leaders are doing — the arrogance, the self-serving decisions, the disregard for truth — my heart sinks. We are growing EBs in leadership!
That kind of leadership doesn’t inspire; it oppresses. It’s a joy thief on a national scale.
The Sacred Act of Guarding Joy
So how do we protect what brings us joy?
For me, it’s returning to the simple things:
- Walking my dog and seeing the world through her happy eyes.
- Laughing boisterously with friends over chips and salsa at Mariano’s, and of course, a margarita.
- Playing cards with family, laughing so hard we lose track of the score. Ok. That last part never happens.
- Caring for a little feral cat who has completely stolen my heart. She is adorable and needs her forever family.
- Hugs from people I love, and heartfelt thank-yous from those I’ve helped.
And yes — sometimes, it’s the little indulgences: a clean car or a good massage.
Joy doesn’t always need to be profound. Sometimes it’s practical.
But there are also the things that rob joy if I let them: being talked down to, being yelled at, being excluded from fun things because I’m single, or being stuck in one-sided conversations. There’s something especially painful about being excluded, as though being single makes one less whole or have cooties or be less fun. It deterioriates and damages the friendship, but, over time, I’ve learned to let that pain refine me, not define me. Their choice, their loss.
Rediscovering Joy, Every Day
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that joy isn’t something you find. It’s something you notice. It’s something you intentionally choose.
It’s choosing presence over distraction. Gratitude over grumbling. Connection over comparison.
It is truly an intentional mindset that is in constant battle to win.
There are still days when I feel that sting of isolation or frustration, when I wonder what in the world is happening around me. But then I think of that dog at my side — tail wagging, ready to explore, begging me to go for a walk — and I’m reminded that joy is always waiting for me to step into it.
I just have to put my shoes on.