joy…

Ah… joy.

So often it’s mistaken for excitement, for cheer, or for happiness without disappointment. But true joy lives somewhere quieter. It appears in unexpected moments—when the noise softens, when we pause long enough for the heart to open and recognize what has been there all along.

Joy naturally arises when the mind is less burdened—
when we are present,
when we are kind,
when we are no longer grasping.

This tells us something important: joy is not about adding more to our lives, but about removing what obscures it.

Let this be your gentle reminder, dear one—joy already lives within you. You don’t need to search for it, purchase it, or manufacture it. It rests quietly beneath the weight we carry, waiting to be noticed.

From here grows an understanding of equanimity—a balance that moves like the tides. Life flows between what demands our effort and what invites our surrender, between doing and simply being with what is.

As I write this, I’m holding my grandson in my arms. He’s just two weeks old. It’s 1 a.m. The lights are low, the house finally still. His parents are sleeping, and my home is filled with the gentle rhythm of waking and resting—of life moving through bodies both big and small.

And my heart is full of joy.

Not because this moment is perfect—but because it matters. Because love is happening here. Because presence is being practiced. Because there is care in the unspoken, and tenderness in simply responding to what’s needed.

This is how we love one another.
This is how the doorway to the heart softens.
This is where joy lives.

And if we pause long enough, we can hear it—calling our name, beat by beat, patiently knocking, asking to be let through.