Showing posts with label Joy Project 2020. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Joy Project 2020. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 5, 2024

Weekly Roundup 21: June is for Joy

2024 has felt hectic, with some fun stuff but also some stressful stuff. On more than one occasion, I told myself that come June, things would slow down and get easier. And now that June is here, I'm trying to make it happen. 

One thing I want to focus on this month is finding something to be joyful about every day. In 2020, I blogged about my Joy Project based on Ingrid Fetell Lee's book Joyful. But a lot has happened since 2020, am I right? So I need a little bit of a joy refresher. A joy bump. A jolt of joy. Something like that.

June is a wonderful month for joy, mostly because the outdoors is so wonderful. Not to cold, not too hot, lots of things are blooming, and the grasshoppers haven't yet eaten everything down to the stem. Now that school is out for the summer, I see neighborhood kids heading to and from the pool. Baby ducks swim in the canal, people get married. 

So far, I have been joyful about seeing a hummingbird at my flowers, the baby evergreen trees that unexpectedly germinated in my backyard, the Netflix show Girls5Eva, tiny toad tadpoles, and watching my husband rescue two garter snakes from the neighbor's pond.





All month long, I'll be keeping my eye out for joyful things, and I'm also going to revisit the book to see where else I can jumpstart joy in June. 

Have a joyful week! See you next Wednesday!

Friday, January 8, 2021

My Writer Word of the Year

Dog discipline (Also: not my dog)
Every year, the members of my writing critique group each choose a word to guide us through the coming 12 months. Last year, as you may know, my word was Joy. My sister gifted me with the book Joyful, by Ingrid Fetell Lee, and I used it to inspire me through what I called Joy Project 2020. It was a good word for a tough year, and I very much appreciated being reminded to seek joy in my home, work, and relationships.  

On Wednesday, my critique group met via Zoom to discuss our words for 2021. The list included submit, thrive, open, close, and a couple that are still under consideration. In the past, I've chosen feel-good words such as joy and actionable words such as engage. This year, my word is discipline. 

I'll delve a little deeper in future posts, but the big reason I chose discipline for 2021 is that I've realized how frequently my bad habits get in my way. If someone else thwarted me as often as I thwart myself, I'd be none too happy. And yet, I let myself off the hook time and again.

So, I'm setting out into this brave new year with the dual goals of weakening bad habits and strengthening good ones. I'm sure it will be an ongoing process, and if you have any suggestions for success, leave a comment! I think I will need all the help I can get.

I hope your new year is off to a satisfactory start!






Wednesday, December 30, 2020

Joy Project Wrap-Up: The Tools


2020, am I right?

When 2020 began, none of us had any idea what the year had in store. And here we are at the end, looking forward to gentler days ahead. We are wiser now, more cautious, with a weary sadness that will take a while to shed, like sloughing off a tight snake skin. But through it all, 2020 had small silver linings and moments of joy. I hope you experienced both of those.

This year, as I read my way through Ingrid Fetell Lee's book Joyful, I was reminded time and again that often, joy is where you find it. We just need to move through the world with our senses in tune and our hearts open. An open mind doesn't hurt, either. 

At the back of the book is a "Joyful Toolkit" with exercises and tips for promoting joy, and recognizing and removing "killjoys." I plan to refer to this often in the coming year to keep my joy mojo going. Other inspirational resources from Ingrid include The Aesthetics of Joy website and The Joyspotters Society Facebook page.

I wish you all a very happy, healthy New Year, full of joy and abundance. And rest.

See you soon!



Wednesday, November 25, 2020

Joy Project: Celebration

Celebration is the perfect chapter for this time of year, though it is a foregone conclusion that our holiday celebrations will look much different in 2020. American Thanksgiving is tomorrow, and most people I know have scaled back, or even eliminated, their traditional gatherings. Travel, especially by public means, is highly discouraged. 

Local holiday ale party from a few years ago

My mother is in an at-risk population, so she will not be joining us for only the second time in I don't remember how long. My sister lives in Washington State, where restrictions have recently tightened, and she will not be able to gather with her friends. I fear Christmas will be very much the same. 

But I firmly believe that anyone with the physical and emotional energy to do so should find reasons to celebrate as this year winds down. It helps us forge and strengthen connections, even in these socially distant times. Celebratory emotions such as joy are highly contagious and much healthier to spread than a certain coronavirus that continues to plague us. 

In Joyful, Ingrid Fetell Lee offers suggestions for fostering a celebratory mood, including:

  • Festive attire
  • Music
  • Song and dance
  • Color and motion
  • Things that sparkle, flare, or burst
And guess what? This is the perfect time of year to find all those things! Even 2020 can't keep us from donning ugly sweaters, hanging lights and sparkly decorations, and dancing around the kitchen singing "Jingle Bell Rock."

Please take time in the coming weeks to unplug from the news, make popcorn and hot cocoa, watch cheesy holiday specials, and drive around looking at lights. Find celebratory moments whenever and wherever you can.

Thursday, I will eat turkey and pumpkin pie and celebrate gratitude with my husband, sons, and dog. And as soon as the leftovers are put away, I'm leaning hard into the Christmas season. 

Happy Thanksgiving to my American friends. Stay safe and well, everyone!
 

Thursday, October 29, 2020

Joy Project: Magic

This was a fun chapter to read this time of year, because who doesn't want to believe in magic at Halloween? Kids are open to magic any time, but (with the exception of Harry Potter) adults often see it as frivolous. Impractical. We might call it superstition or fantasy and leave the pure wonderment of it to the young ones who still believe in the Tooth Fairy. 

(To be fair, there's a pretty strong cultural component, as magic is seen as very real and very potent in many Caribbean, African, and Asian countries. And Icelanders are pretty forthcoming about their belief in elves and hidden people.)

As Ingrid Fetell Lee points out, for many of us, magic is most accessible in the transformation of the mundane into something joyful and fleeting. Rainbows and fireflies and beautiful patterns of ice on a winter window--courtesy of Jack Frost, no doubt. It might seem difficult to replicate these things in our day-to-day environment--after all, magic is also elusive. For this, Ingrid turns to the play of light off of prisms, mirrors, and anything iridescent. 

Some years ago, I found this doorway divider on clearance at Target:


As soon as I saw it, I knew I wanted it hanging on the wall. Made of shell, the squares catch and subtly reflect the light, which often reminds me of a glistening stream. When the window is open, the squares clink against each other like a wind chime. It is right in my line of vision as I come down the stairs, and I never get tired of it. Before reading this chapter, I hadn't thought of it as magical, but now I do.

I hope you have something magical in store for you this weekend. The moon will be full, and that's a good start. Have a safe and healthy Halloween!









 

Wednesday, October 14, 2020

Joy Project: Transcendence


Hello! Before we jump into the next chapter of Joyful, I'll continue the theme of the last post by confessing a weird joyful surprise my husband and I share. I don't remember how it started, but we hide this novelty severed finger for each other to find. 


It might show up in a coat pocket or a drawer, usually some place we don't frequently check. I know, it's completely strange, but it cracks me up every time. 

So...

Moving on to the topic of transcendence. Definitions of the verb transcend include to surpass and to go beyond, but for many of us, it also means to rise above. Accordingly, Ingrid Fetell Lee poses the question, "Why is it that our emotions seem to lie along a vertical axis?" Joyous things feel light and uplifting, somber things feel heavy and low. 

The effect can be pronounced when we are physically raised off the ground, as in a treehouse or a skyscraper, but even just looking up can feel transcendent. Hot air balloons, bubbles, and clouds all have a visual lightness that results in a positive emotional payoff. 

Human beings enjoy looking up. So why don't we do it more often? Sadly, as Ingrid points out, we're often looking down at our phones--to the point that walking into obstacles while doing so has become commonplace. And most homes aren't exactly cathedral-like in their dimensions.

Though my house is a modest size, I am lucky to have a few big windows and a high ceiling on the main floor, which impart a feeling of lightness. But my writing space is in the basement, with no window nearby, and I certainly wouldn't mind bringing some transcendence to that area. 

Ingrid suggests low furniture, tall plants, vertical stripes, and long curtains to accentuate the height of a room. Maybe someday I will get creative like that. But for a quick fix, I did two things. I brought in a tall plant, which I conveniently had at my disposal, and swiveled one light fixture on my floor lamp so it points upward. These tweaks took about two minutes, and I'll let you know if they make a difference. 

I hope October is treating you well! See you next time!
 
Fingers crossed that my magic plant helps me
transcend mediocre writing!






Friday, September 25, 2020

Joy Project: Surprise

Hello! Thanks for checking in on the latest joy project installment! Chapter 6 of Joyful was a fun one, because I love to be (pleasantly) surprised. To me, that means nothing overdone, awkward, potentially embarrassing, or scary. It's as simple as catching a glimpse of the unexpected (like these painted stair risers), finding a laugh in something dull, or the serendipity of being in the right place at the right time. Keep the lavish parties; I'm happy with a coupon for a free appetizer.
I was surprised (hah!) to learn that psychologist Paul Ekman identifies surprise as one of the six primary emotions. Its purpose, writes Ingrid, is "to quickly redirect our attention." From an evolutionary perspective, that is an advantage because a surprise could signify an oncoming threat or opportunity. Joyful surprises, which hopefully those early humans also experienced, "promote upward spirals of positive emotion." I love that image, because we so often think of spirals as a descent.

Even in infancy, humans are pretty adept at recognizing things that look or sound different. To our benefit, artists of all kinds understand the value of sensory surprises. Perhaps you've heard of yarnbombing, also known as knitted graffiti, which livens up an environment with fun color and texture. Painted rocks with inspirational messages and designs have popped up all over my neighborhood during the pandemic. And I love hearing little snippets of music wafting through the air, even if it is just a kid practicing trombone. 

Yarnbombed light post

The trick is working surprise into our lives without becoming predictable. This is where the "hide-and-reveal" comes in handy. More on that next time!


Wednesday, September 9, 2020

Shape of Play Update

In my last post, I mentioned the idea that the most playful shapes for humans-and some other animals, too--are circles and spheres. I haven't done much in the way of decorating tweaks since then, though I really meant to get some round throw pillows. But here are the small, plant-based ways I've added spheres and circles to my life:

Marimo moss balls:



Goldfish plant in a bowl:


Air plant habitat:


String-of-pearls succulent:



And this moss terrarium:



My history of plant care is a little spotty, so it's a good thing these are all fairly low-maintenance. Because the least joyful shape for a plant is, well, dead.

I hope you're having a good week, and I'll see you soon!

Friday, August 28, 2020

Joy Project: Play

Hello! Before I jump into the next chapter of Joyful, I'll update you on my quest for harmony in the cleaning out of my mother's house. I could not be happier to report that I've crossed the finish line. Thanks to a lot of help from a lot of people--and a very cooperative local real estate market--the sale of the house closed on Monday.

The last week was a little strange, full of competing moments of nostalgia and frustration. But as I swept out the garage last Saturday, I finally got the sense that the harmony of the home had been restored, and it was ready to receive its new occupant. It was a feeling of satisfaction more than sadness, and I was delighted when a large dragonfly flew into the garage and buzzed around for a bit. If you believe in such things, dragonflies symbolize adaptability, transformation, and new beginnings. They also remind us when we need to bring a little light and joy into our lives.  
Now I just need to restore harmony in my own home, which has been kind of neglected the past few months.

And, boy, was I ready to read a chapter about play!

Many animals engage in play. It's one way they learn appropriate social behaviors. If a pup plays too rough, its litter mates will let it know. Although human play is often much more complicated, it can also be quite simple. I hadn't really thought about it this way, but the book suggests that play is the only activity that humans do solely for fun. There's generally no monetary gain or survival of the species on the line.

I imagine we all have a pretty good idea of what constitutes a playful activity. But what makes for a more playful environment? What is "the shape of play?" Sorry, triangle, it's not you. Nor you, rhombus. Research supports the idea that the most joyful shape for humans is a circle. Sharp angles subconsciously evoke danger--teeth, thorns, and various potential injuries that clumsy people like me know all too well. A curved surface feels safer and more accessible, which in turn reduces stress and promotes creativity.

Unless you have an extensive collection of decorative plates, Hula Hoops, and dartboards festooning your walls, your environment is probably more angular than not. I know mine is. So now I'm going to consider the ways in which I can add more curves, circles, and spheres in places in my home that feel particularly stuffy. And I honestly don't think I could go wrong with a bubble machine.

Stay safe and healthy, everyone! See you next time!


bubbles tilt-shift photography, soap bubbles, green, farbenspiel, tree,  colorful, shimmer, float, CC0, public domain, royalty free | Piqsels








Friday, July 31, 2020

Joy Project: Harmony

Happy Friday, and happy last day of July! It's been more than two months since my last post, and honestly it feels as if it could have been two weeks or two years. These are such strange times, and it's easy to lose track. But the real reason I've been absent is that I've been helping my mother downsize from a four-bedroom house to a tiny apartment.

Downsizing does not come naturally to my mother. She's a keeper, a collector, a saver. She's not the only one; women of her generation learned to "waste not, want not" and were expected to be the caretakers of a family's history through its artifacts--the dishes and quilts and photographs and mementos, sometimes going back generations.

I knew the house was full--that was more than apparent to the eye--but once my sister and I started digging in, the density surprised me. Every closet, every shelf, every drawer, every cupboard. I couldn't help but think of a black hole drawing in matter and compressing it until not an inch of space remained. I won't go into all the details at this point, but suffice it to say that the clean-out is requiring a significant amount of physical and emotional energy. And time.

So this is the context in which I read the next chapter of Ingrid's book, Joyful. The chapter entitled--wait for it--"Harmony".  (For anyone who does not believe the Universe has a sense of humor, I submit this bit of synchronicity as Exhibit A.) 

A significant component of harmonious surroundings is order. Though humans love things wild and messy sometimes, we are also drawn to order. Order implies safety and predictability, which were vital to early humans. "The greater the complexity in an environment," Ingrid writes, "the greater the need for an underlying harmony to bring a sense of order and ease to a space." Order is a manifestation of harmony, and "harmony offers visible evidence that someone cares enough about a place to invest energy in it."

I'll add to that a lesson I learned from my mother's house: if you do not invest energy in maintaining order, the resulting disorder will take that energy from you, and then some. 

For ideas on how to promote harmony within a space, many people turn to the Chinese art of feng shui. And although it is prone to mystical overtones, it really is just about the smooth flow of energy. For me, a big part of that is simply paying attention. We get so good at overlooking things that we hardly notice the stack of mail on the table or the chair that everyone bumps into. Ingrid describes this as "finding friction at a moment when you really want momentum."

So far, 2020 has been full of friction of all kinds, and it doesn't appear that it is going to get much smoother in the near future. But as I move forward with the idea of harmony fully planted in my brain, I'm going to concentrate on reducing the friction within my control. 

Wishing you a harmonious start to the month of August!






   

Friday, May 22, 2020

Joy Project: Freedom

Photo credit: Nathan Sundstedt
Whew, April's Blogging from A to Z Challenge set me a little behind schedule, but I don't want to let this month go by without posting about the third chapter in the book Joyful. This chapter's aesthetic is Freedom, which is a complex ideal right now as many of us are feeling physically, socially, and psychologically confined by the coronavirus pandemic. But in some cases, those restrictions are actually opening up our lives in unanticipated ways.

Ingrid writes that "Joy thrives on the alleviation of constraints," which seems completely at odds with the increase in constraints we are all experiencing. I'm finding personally, however, that some of those constraints are balancing out. Yes, I have to work from home, but I can do it without business casual. No, my husband and I can't take the beach vacation we planned, but we can use that time and money to make long-needed improvements to our landscaping. And if no one has been to the supermarket in a while and we don't have much to cook for a meal, we all just fend for ourselves.

Much of the Freedom aesthetic doesn't have to do with coming and going. It's really about the feeling of freedom that comes from removing or mitigating obstacles that block us. That could be as simple as rehoming a piece of furniture that doesn't quite work or stepping away from your technology for a while.


But the best freedom is found by going outside in nature, or bringing nature in. Research shows that people living with more access to green spaces have less stress and more contentment. Workers who sit near windows report better health and job satisfaction. Even the humble houseplant can make us feel happier. Walking about in the forest, aka forest bathing, improves immune function and has been a public-health initiative in Japan since 1992.

We humans are deeply connected to nature down to the molecular level. So I encourage you during this unsettled time to experience and appreciate nature as often as you can--at a safe social distance, of course, and taking all appropriate precautions. Get a houseplant and give it a name. Plant some seeds and flowers. Victory gardens are a thing again--although in all honesty, mine will likely be more of an uneasy truce.

Be well, everyone! Find some joy today!

 
Meet Jeffrey

Friday, May 8, 2020

A to Z Joy: Reflections 2020

First of all, congratulations to anyone who jumped into the Blogging from A to Z Challenge this year. 2020 is challenging us in so many ways even without a solid month of posting in the middle of a pandemic. So if you even gave it a try, pat yourself on the back.

I was happy with my theme, as thinking about the little things that bring me joy helped get my mind off of the news, which, as we know, is more bad than good this spring. I did a fair job of staying ahead of the alphabet and tried to keep my posts short enough for a quick read.

What I did not do well was visit an abundance of other blogs. I found some fun ones I visited regularly, and I found many whose posts were so lengthy, I just didn't have the patience. That makes me feel bad, because I know the work that goes into it. Mea culpa, I'm chalking it up to my general short attention span this year. Also, if your comment form is hard to find or in any way difficult, I probably skipped it. I did make sure I reciprocated every comment left on my posts, but unfortunately not every blogger did the same.

All in all, things seemed a little tired in the A to Z world compared to years past. Again, a sign of the times. The good news is that even though April is in the books, we're still out there blogging! And I plan to use the master list to continue to look for new blogs I enjoy.

Thank you to everyone who visited! Stay safe and well, and I hope you'll stop by again soon.




Thursday, April 30, 2020

A to Z Joy: Zephyr

zephyrus wind engraving | Ken Mayer | Flickr
Not sure what's going on with those legs...
We get a lot of wind in Colorado, which I don't love, but a zephyr is different. A gentle breeze from the west, it gets its name from Zephyros, the Greek god of the west wind. He ushered in springtime by melting snow and bringing warm rains for the trees and flowers.

A zephyr takes the bite out of the winter air and promises blooming crocus and forsythia. It comes as the days are slowly getting longer and any continuing snowfall disappears much more quickly than in the frigid months of January and February. It is the perfect middle between the cold gales and hot gusts that we are so accustomed to.

Zephyranthes - Wikipedia
Zephyranthes flower
(Back in the day before the Colorado Rockies were born, Denver had a minor league baseball team called the Zephyrs. Baseball...remember that? *sigh*)

Anyway, my wish is that this year's spring zephyrs act as positive winds of change, bringing us a kinder, gentler period after the tough few months we've had so far in 2020.

Thanks to all of you who visited during A to Z. I hope my posts brought a bit of joy to your day, and I look forward to seeing you around the internet!

Oh, and here's a taste of what winds can be like in Northern Colorado: