Return to Joy (the quiet kind)
Joy is often treated like a reward.
Joy is often treated like a reward.
Like something you earn after you finish everything.
After you become the better version.
After you get through the hard season.
But I’ve been learning something different:
Joy is information.
It tells you what brings you back to yourself.
It points to what still feels alive inside you.
It’s not childish. It’s not frivolous.
It’s a compass.
And in the middle of building, working, parenting, grieving, managing, holding it all—a compass matters.
This week, I want to invite you to return to joy in a way that doesn’t require a vacation, a makeover, or a big life change.
Just a small noticing.
Try this today: Make a list of five things that soften you.
Not the impressive things.
The ordinary ones.
Examples:
• light on the wall in the morning
• a song you play on repeat
• the warm mug between your hands
• walking into a room you just cleaned
• the way your child laughs when they’re unguarded
• a scent that makes you feel safe
Then ask:When was the last time I let myself feel that — without rushing past it?
Because we move through our lives so quickly, we miss our own sweetness.
We don’t let the moment land.
We don’t let ourselves receive.
Returning to joy is a way of saying: I’m still allowed to have a life that feels good.
Even now.
Even here.
Even in the middle.
If your joy feels far away, start smaller.
Start with relief.
Start with one minute of ease.
Start with one choice that makes your body unclench.
This month in The Threshold, Return is the theme — and joy is part of that return.
Not as a performance.
As a practice.
Reflections for the week:
What do I do that makes me feel like myself again?
Where have I been postponing joy until I “deserve” it?
What is one tiny way I can invite wonder back into this week?
If you want the longer January member letter + three prompts, The Threshold is open as a free member space on the site.
It’s there for the women who want a steadier, deeper pace.
Until next Tuesday,
Wendy
P.S. If joy feels complicated right now, that’s okay. Let it be gentle. Let it be quiet. Let it be yours.
