Try This Fun Little Phrase to Immediately Boost Your Joy

(image)

“Joy is the simplest form of gratitude.” ~Karl Barth

I had no way of knowing when I went to visit my brother’s family that summer in 2019 that my three-year-old niece would say seven words that would forever change my relationship with joy.

It was July and predictably steamy in Georgia where his family lives. I was visiting to meet my newborn nephew, and the stifling heat kept us all inside for most of my stay.

The second morning after I arrived, I was spending time with my younger niece and keeping her entertained. My older niece was at a …

(image)

“Joy is the simplest form of gratitude.” ~Karl Barth

I had no way of knowing when I went to visit my brother’s family that summer in 2019 that my three-year-old niece would say seven words that would forever change my relationship with joy.

It was July and predictably steamy in Georgia where his family lives. I was visiting to meet my newborn nephew, and the stifling heat kept us all inside for most of my stay.

The second morning after I arrived, I was spending time with my younger niece and keeping her entertained. My older niece was at a playdate, my sister-in-law was with the baby, and my brother was running an errand, so she and I had some bonding time to ourselves.

We sat in the living room playing her new favorite make-believe game, Girl’s Club. The game of Girl’s Club was simple: speaking out loud, describe Girl’s Club, the idyllic imaginary place where the girls who were in could come hang out, and it was now my turn.

“Hmmmm, let’s see.” I started. “Well, there’s a fountain outside with mermaids swimming in it.”

My niece’s round blue eyes became enormous. “I knew it would be like this!” she said. I laughed; it was so cute, and her glee was contagious.

I continued my turn. “And inside, there is a ceiling painted to look like a rainbow.”

Again, a deep inhalation and, “I knew it would be like this!” This time she clapped her hands.

I couldn’t stop smiling as I went on describing. Girl’s Club was clearly being channeled from my own inner four-year old, so my niece and I were on the same page.

“And there is an enormous golden chandelier…and pink velvet couches!”

My tiny three-year-old niece jumped up and down and flung her entire body onto the couch, rocking back and forth, unable to contain her excitement. “I KNEW it would be like this!”

It was the biggest exclamation yet. Our back and forth continued just like this, with me sharing more details, and my niece affirming that not only was this fabulous, but it was exactly what she expected—and now it was here.

I was struck by her response. Her joy was palpable, literally bursting from her small body in motion and energy. And she never got tired of exclaiming over and over, “I knew it would be like this!” I noticed several things about my niece on this particular morning:

1. She is aware of what she loves, of what feels fun and good to her.

2. She expects that things will be good and delightful to her. Of COURSE the couches are pink velvet, exactly like she imagined.

3. Her recognition that the goodness she anticipated and knew would be coming was now here and should be celebrated.

4. Her complete embodied joy.

When was the last time I had embodied joy like this? I couldn’t say for sure, but here was my niece, easily accessing it on a Thursday morning in the living room of her house simply by having a conversation about imaginary things.

I had a meditation practice and did yoga, and I was pretty good at tapping into calm. But I realized that calm is very different from joy, and while I often allowed myself this muted sense of peace, could I let myself really let go into the full-bodied exuberance of joy?

As adults, we can protect ourselves by expecting the worst. “I don’t want to get my hopes up,” or “If I think it’s going to turn out well that might mean something bad will happen,” or having the feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop when things are really good. Having something good is vulnerable, because then we have something to lose.

Embodied joy is one of the gifts of childhood. We haven’t yet learned to be too cautious, to temper expectations, to feel the weight of