Right after Labor Day, I embarked on my book tour for "The Joy You Make." The timing felt somewhat paradoxical, launching a tour dedicated to extolling the virtues of joy amidst a backdrop of global and personal anxieties. Irrespective of political affiliations, whether red, blue, or purple, the looming November elections cast a shadow, economic uncertainties loomed large, the devastating war between Israel and Hamas raged on, and closer to home, in western North Carolina, the aftermath of Hurricane Helene left a trail of destruction. Honestly, even recounting that confluence of events elevates my cortisol levels.
Yet, concurrently, I found myself inundated with messages from both old friends and new acquaintances, all echoing a shared sentiment: the profound need for joy – more joy! – in these challenging times. I’m reminded of a quote by Thomas Aquinas, the esteemed philosopher and theologian: "Man cannot live without joy." I firmly believe in its truth – without hope, light, or joy, we risk being lost in the darkness, spiraling down a metaphorical drain.
However, the conversation invariably shifted, with a recurring question posed to me: "Is it even possible to find joy right now?" I must admit, I’ve grappled with this very question myself, particularly given my inherent lack of Pollyannaish tendencies. In fact, I’ve often been likened to Eeyore, the perpetually gloomy donkey from the "Winnie-the-Pooh" stories. By nature, I lean towards a glass-half-empty perspective. But the two years I dedicated to researching joy have undeniably broadened my understanding.
Initially, I envisioned joy as requiring grand spectacles – the fireworks of New Year’s Eve, the celebratory explosions of July Fourth, the momentous occasion of a wedding night. But it turns out, this "big bang" joy, as I’ve come to call it, is merely one facet of a much larger spectrum, specifically categorized as "ecstatic" joy. There’s also "serene" joy, the tranquil sense of peace experienced during a quiet walk in nature. Then there’s "religious" joy, often found within the walls of a house of worship. And let’s not forget "schadenfreude," that guilty pleasure we sometimes derive from the misfortune of others, and its more benevolent cousin, "freudenfreude," the genuine joy we experience in witnessing the successes and happiness of those around us.
The crucial understanding I’ve gained is that joy manifests in countless forms, both within ourselves and in the world around us. Once we grasp this concept, it becomes significantly easier to cultivate joy on a daily basis, even amidst trying circumstances.
Skeptical? Consider the studies conducted during the recent COVID-19 pandemic, which revealed that a significant majority of people (83% in one study) found "some" or "a lot" of joy. One researcher shared with me, initially to her own surprise, that people were able to identify silver linings during their darkest hours, ultimately fostering feelings of joy.
A particularly vivid example that comes to mind is the nightly ritual that emerged during the pandemic in New York City, where throngs of residents emerged from their homes at 7 p.m. to cheer and applaud for the city’s first responders. A poignant video essay by The New York Times captured the essence of those early days through photographs and tweets. One notable quote read: "The cheering that began in late March gives people – from their separate windows, terraces, fire escapes, stoops, and rooftops – a way to connect." Another stated: "Each night, it begins with a few claps, building to a standing ovation for the hundreds of thousands of people saving lives and keeping the city running: health care providers, emergency medical workers, grocery workers, delivery riders."
The common thread woven throughout these images and words was the importance of community, connection, and gratitude.
Recently, I engaged my social media followers, asking them how they were experiencing joy in the present moment. The responses were diverse and insightful.
Then, of course, there were the suggestions that elicited a smile, if not a full-blown laugh: "Listening to the predawn song of the crows and doves." "Letting a dog stare at me while I eat." And, "Duke basketball" (which, I’m quite certain, evokes anything but joyful feelings in Tar Heel fans).
In essence, the recipe for cultivating joy is surprisingly simple: Connection, helping others, gratitude, kindness, staying active, and, yes, indulging in a few extra calories can all contribute to our ability to find and share joy.
Steven Petrow is a columnist who writes on civility and manners and the author of seven books, including "The Joy You Make" and "Stupid Things I Wont Do When I Get Old." Follow him on Threads: @mr.steven.petrow.
