What is “joy”? We often make the mistake of defining it as a synonym for or a heightened state of happiness. In truth, joy is neither of those things.
My older son, a counselor by trade, tells me that most patients make a predictable statement on their first visit to his clinic. “I just want to be happy.” He said all trained therapists understand that’s not actually what they are searching for. They just chose the wrong word. That’s because, as he rightly observes, happiness is conditional and temporary. One thing makes you happy this morning while something else makes you angry or disappointed this afternoon. Who wants to build a life on such an unsteady foundation as that? What they desire, he tells me, is joy.
Joy has a permanence about it. It’s a worldview (a personal perspective or outlook) more than a response to a given moment. It is not a result of seeing glasses half full, but is rather the source of our being able to view glasses that way. It is a sense of peace with life that doesn’t depend on the ebbs or flows of any given moment. The late Dr. Barbara Holmes wrote about that in a meditation called Joy: An Embodied Presence: “True joy is not circumstantial. It doesn’t require that things be going well. You can have joy during imprisonment as Nelson Mandela did, or while impoverished, as many do in Haiti. Joy is even available in war-torn parts of the globe today.” (available on Richard Rohr’s Center for Action and Contemplation website, 6/17/2025).
Discovering joy involves a handful of things. The first is a decision to look for it. We don’t have to search very hard to find discouragement. Look at what Russia continues to do to Ukraine. Look at what a political terrorist did a few days ago in Minnesota and what another did by shooting an innocent bystander at a legal and non-violent rally in Salt Lake City. Look at what is happening between Israel and Iran as I type these words. Look at the deepening and devastating divide in our country (fueled by politicians who should be serving us rather than dividing us). Look at the stats on child abuse or abuse of the elderly. We could go on and on with this, but why? We all know that reasons for discouragement abound. So, I asked a friend recently how she manages to keep her head above water emotionally. She answered, “I focus on the goodness of the unreported masses.” Bingo! Amid the craziness of the moment, there are also “the unreported masses” – the people who give generously to humanitarian causes, who volunteer in agencies that help those who cannot help themselves, who stand up and speak out on issues when it would be easier and safer to sit still and remain silent, who teach children, who care for those in nursing centers, who send notes of sympathy to people who grieve, who carry casseroles or home-baked bread to folks recuperating from illness, or who in a thousand ways extend grace in an age of anger and bring light to a world of shadows. Finding them is a source of joy.
A second component in our search for joy is to recognize impermanence. “This, too, shall pass” is a phrase worth remembering. Every dark and oppressive epoch eventually concluded. From imperial Rome to fascist Germany with countless stops in-between, evil systems and authoritarian rulers eventually fall. It may take generations for it to happen, and far too many innocent lives are harmed or lost along that journey, but history proves that the thirst for freedom is always stronger than the lust for power. Evil is impermanent.
Third, peace often comes through small and momentary choices. Major issues loom large. Many will need our energy and attention. That is why from time to time we need to retreat to personal oases (sources of rest or pleasure). Listen to the music that transports your soul (whether it’s Bach, Ella Fitzgerald, or Taylor Swift). Take a silent walk, drinking in the beauty of nature and the healing reality of solitude. Go fishing. Or golfing. Play tennis or pickleball or bridge. Work in your flower garden. Meditate (which is basically prayer without words, waiting to hear those necessary messages the world so often drowns out). Read a novel. Experiment in the kitchen. Visit that cafe which has the best bread pudding or key lime pie you ever tasted. Worship. Watch an old comedy on TCM or Pluto. Have fun with your pet. Observe children at play. None of those activities will change what is going on in the world. But, each can change us and provide renewed emotional strength to survive (and maybe even to make a difference). At least, even in a stressful (or unhappy) environment, they will be sources of joy.
Finally, choose to be part of the solution (rather than part of the problem). Anger, hatred, and selfishness seem omnipresent. But, as my friend put it, so are “the unreported masses.” Find a way to become a member of that community. There’s an old maxim I have quoted so many times across the years: “No one can do everything, but everyone can do something.” Find your something, and throw yourself into it. It may be in the public arena advocating for that which is moral and right. It may be at an institutional level volunteering in a local agency that assists people in need. It may be in a faith family (church, synagogue, mosque). It may be a personal commitment to become an agent of love regardless of the choices others make to the contrary. We will practice kindness. We will uplift the disheartened. We will send the note, write the email, or make the phone call just to say, “I’m here for you, you’re not alone.” We will bite our tongues when resentment rages and speak with gentility when we see the tears of others. We will be a source of love in a world that needs love more than it needs anything else at all. And if we make that sometimes difficult and demanding choice, we will bring happiness to others. But even more deeply, we will find joy for ourselves.