Joy: A Practice, Not a Prize

8.1.7 Foundation Series: Essay 7

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Related: Introduction to the Foundation Series · Essay 1 · Essay 2 · Essay 3 · Essay 4 · Essay 5 · Essay 6

Welcome

Joy is a late addition to my Foundation Series. It is so central that I almost overlooked it. A simple moment on a playground with my middle daughter, Megan, reminded me that joy is not rare or distant. It is near and seemingly ordinary. It waits in small choices and shared moments.

Each night before sleep, I replay the day. I sit in quiet and say thank you for the gifts I received. Most nights I can recall a generous handful of bright points. Some are funny. Some are moments of awe. Nearly all are small. They are brief exchanges, laughter, and time together. They are reminders that I am blessed and have been given a fortunate life, and that gratitude keeps it in view.

Seeds of Joy

One early memory returns again and again. I call it the Cheez-It party. I was four, and my little sister was two. After our older siblings left for school, my mom would set up creative activities in the basement. One day we had a Cheez-It party. That is most of what I remember, yet it remains one of my happiest memories: being together, sharing a snack, talking, and playing as a family. It cost nothing, and it filled my life with warmth.

I have thousands of small, joy-filled moments from childhood that still make me smile. Sitting at the piano, inventing little songs for my dad. There were no tickets and no stage, only a child, a parent, and heartfelt notes. Chasing fireflies. Riding the Critter through Mr. Nessen’s field and forest. Road trips. Popovers at Boundary Waters. Fruit salad and crab catching in Jamaica, watch your toes. The pride of doing my chores well. Making a new friend. Standing up for someone. Mary singing Edelweiss everywhere we went.

As an adult, the joys multiplied. I remember the first moment I met my wife. There was a quiet certainty that this was a moment to keep for life. That was joy.

Joy in the Everyday

With five-year-old twins and our youngest turning three today, most days include a stop at one or two playgrounds. Hanna and I sometimes joke that the playground means work for parents, mostly pushing swings. We tried a rule: if we go to the playground, the girls entertain themselves. Inevitably, they ask to be pushed anyway.

Yesterday Megan ran over and asked for a push. I could have treated it as an interruption. I chose to jump off the bench and say yes. Redirecting energy into happiness is my working definition of joy. Life is what we make it, so let us make it fun.

My mom was a master at this. She kept very few rules. At her funeral, my siblings and I each shared a reflection. My older brother, Paul, said that in our mom’s world there were man’s laws and God’s laws. We should not break God’s laws. Speeding was sometimes negotiable. One of God’s laws, as she lived it, was to rejoice in our blessings. That posture shaped our home. It still shapes mine.

The choice to rise and push Megan on the swing brought her joy and mine. A small action changed the tone of the afternoon for both of us. It reminded me that joy grows when we make room for it. That single moment sparked this essay.

Joy and Pleasure Are Not the Same

Joy is not the same as pleasure. Pleasure is an experience. Joy is a way of seeing and sharing. Pleasure fades when the moment ends. Joy can linger because it is tied to meaning, gratitude, and relationship. Pleasure is often about getting. Joy is more often about giving and noticing. Pleasure is not wrong. It is simply not enough to build a life.

Joy in Hard Seasons

Joy is not denial. It does not pretend that sorrow and loss do not exist. I have watched illness and death take their toll in my family. I have sat with grief. Even in those painful seasons, joy is possible. It may be quieter, like a hand held at a bedside, a wish that my little sister could have grown old, or a memory shared at the dinner table. It is the pause that lets gratitude breathe, even when the day is heavy. That kind of joy is resilient. It does not depend on perfect conditions. It depends on attention and love.

Reflection Point

Joy is not something we find; it is something we make, moment by moment, choice by choice, with gratitude as its soil.

The Lesson: Joy Is Made, Not Found

• Joy often lives in small moments we choose to notice.
• We can redirect ordinary energy toward delight and connection.
• Shared joy multiplies. It lifts the giver and the receiver.
• Joy can exist beside sorrow because it is rooted in meaning, not circumstance.

Practical Takeaways

1. Keep a nightly joy review. Name three moments that made you smile. Say thank you for each one.
2. Plan one tiny joy each day. A song at the piano. A walk to the mailbox. A shared snack on the steps.
3. Say yes to play when you can. Join the game or push the swing. Invite others into the moment.
4. Practice gratitude out loud. Tell someone what you noticed and why it mattered.
5. Create a family joy jar. Write down small moments on slips of paper. Read them together on quiet nights.

Two Questions to Explore

• Where did joy appear today, and how can you invite more of it tomorrow?
• What small choice could redirect a routine moment into delight for you or someone you love?

Further Resources

• The Book of Joy by His Holiness the Dalai Lama and Archbishop Desmond Tutu. Wisdom on joy in the face of suffering.
• Awe by Dacher Keltner. How everyday wonder expands joy.
• Play by Stuart Brown, MD. Why play fuels connection, learning, and happiness.
• TED Talk: Want to be happy? Be grateful. David Steindl-Rast. A simple practice of attention and thanks.

Thank you for sharing these moments with me. May you notice one small joy today and share it with someone you love. If you do, tell them why it mattered. That is how joy grows.

Live. Lead. Love.
Billy

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Explore the Foundation Series · Essay 1 · Essay 2 · Essay 3 · Essay 4 · Essay 5 · Essay 6