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Daily Practice of Joy

By Victoria Price, Inspirational Speaker & Author
  • Living Love Blog
  • Mad with Joy
  • Living Love 2020
  • Blog Archive
    • 2021 - 2023
    • 2017 - 2019
    • 2015 - 2016
    • Experiments
  • Pictures
  • Essays
  • Practice Archive

MAD WITH JOY

This fabulous Irish Murdoch quote is my favorite excuse for my obsession with photographing flowers,
but right now it has a curious double entendre.

Nothing feels better than when I feel mad with joy.

Lately, however, more often I feel mad at joy.
Meaning mad that I don’t feel as much joy as I used to. Meaning mad at myself for losing the thread
of this practice that brought me so much joy.

Which practice?
The practice of blogging about joy.

Which is why I’ve come full circle BACK TO BLOGGING.

MAD WITH JOY: THE RETURN TO BLOGGING 2024/25

Struggling . . .Together

November 11, 2024

I am struggling.

So I’ve begun looking at practices that helped me in the past. Near the top of that list is blogging about my daily practice of joy.

For me, blogging works for two reasons: 1) I am a verbal processor. Sometimes I don’t even know what I’m thinking or feeling — what needs to be sloughed off or understood — without speaking or writing it. 2) Blogging holds me accountable to my daily practice of joy.

In the summer of 2020, I stopped blogging regularly because I prioritized a different kind of writing — fiction. For the past four-plus years, I have been writing and editing my first novel. Everything about that is pure joy. Even when it’s hard, when I don’t know the answer, when I get to the end of a major edit only to realize there are still miles to go, it’s still joy. The joy of learning how to do something I dreamed of doing well.

But the closer I get to my dream of finishing my first novel and seeing it published, the more challenges have arisen. Every single one of those challenges has to do with relinquishing a lifelong habit.

The habit of workaholism.

Work has always given my life meaning, purpose, and passion. Even way too much work — maybe especially way too much work. Workaholism allowed me to feel virtuous. It is, after all, the only sanctioned addiction in pull-yourself-up-by-the-bootstraps America.

Way way too much work also took up the time and space I might have used to figure out why I became a workaholic in the first place.

In the past two years, for better and for worse, workaholism stopped working. The work that used to make me feel good about myself felt meaningless, stressful, and anxiety-provoking. The more miserable I felt, the more I understood what the whole problem had been: I never believed I could do what I dreamed of doing. . . and now that I knew what I wanted to do, the only way to have the time was to start working less. But the less I work, the more I seem to struggle.

Now, I find myself full circle, turning to the practices that saved my bacon a decade ago.

When I began this daily practice of joy, joy felt very far away. It doesn’t anymore. Joy comes through when I go for a walk, play games with friends, have a deep conversation, stop to smell the flowers, take a long drive, or read something that resonates. And joy always comes when I write.

But something is still missing. Meaning is missing. Purpose is missing. Doing something that makes a difference is missing. The things I used to get from work.

This morning — the weight of worthlessness weighing me down — the thought came, “Why not go back to something that really helped you. Why not blog again?”

The funny thing about blogging is that you start it for yourself. No one has the time or energy or desire to read all the good blogs out there. But as you’re writing, this glimmer of an idea forms that maybe, just maybe, something might resonate for someone else.

In that one imaginary person who might or might not read this, there’s a glimmer of meaning, purpose . . . and with meaning and purpose, connection.

Because that’s what’s really missing, isn’t it? Meaning and purpose are never a one-person play acted in an empty theatre. Meaning and purpose cannot exist without connection.

The daily practice of joy re-connected me to so much: Joy, which I’d completely forgotten. My own heart. Creativity. Hope. Healing. Meaning. Purpose. Possibility. But it was blogging and that brought the thing I never knew was missing. Connection. Community. A heart tribe.

Without blogging, nothing would have changed.

So this blog is for you, the one person who might or might not be reading this today, who might or might not be struggling.

Here’s my question for you: What is something that has helped you in the past? Is it taking a walk or taking a nap? Is it getting up early to watch a sunrise or calling a friend? Is it keeping a gratitude journal at night or creating a daily practice of joy?

Whatever comes to your mind or heart, why not give it a try?

You won’t be alone. I’ll be over here keeping you company as I blog.

Remember: Practice is the “actual application or use of an idea, belief, or method, as opposed to theories relating to it.” Practice is doing something instead of just talking about doing something.

What are you willing to try today?

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“If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give into it. . . whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.”   - Mary Oliver