I turned forty-four a few months ago. I am now officially in my mid-forties—a realization which caused me to stop and reflect. In a season when I was making drastic changes and searching for balance, I had set the intention to escape autopilot living. The ultimate goal was to become increasingly present despite life’s inevitable distractions.  

The morning after my birthday, I woke up thinking of a brilliant friend and mentor who celebrates aging with a yearly birthday challenge. Essentially, she chooses something that stretches her potential, takes her out of her comfort zone, and exposes her to a new experience or perspective. It’s inspiring. On my first full day of being forty-four, I decided to do just that and knew instinctively what my birthday challenge would be.

I was going to embark on a Year of Joy.

Let's back up for a moment, so I can provide you with some context.

I’ve always thought society’s obsession with happiness was suspect. In a complicated world where human-ing feels tricky, I often wonder how people walk around with such playfulness and laughter. I am, by nature, an introspective overthinker. This quality makes me deeply empathetic, sparks my spirituality, and stokes the thoughtfulness of my writing but also blocks my happiness from time to time. (When one is over-analyzing conversations and choices while simultaneously over-preparing for imaginary worst-case scenarios, joy feels frivolous. Who has time for it?)

In the past, I’ve written about the idea of happiness. I have pondered the happiest people I know and wondered why that emotion is so easy for them and so elusive for me. I once read that smart people are rarely happy because they spend so much time in their minds that they miss out on being fully present. If that’s true, I must be a fucking genius. I have Googled the definition of happiness which defines it as “the state of being happy.” WTF?! The definition of being happy is to be happy? How deeply unsatisfying.

If happiness was on Tinder, I’d probably swipe left. Too fickle.

Joy, though, has a different flavor to it. The definition of joy is “the feeling of great pleasure”.

This makes more sense to me. Joy is about moments. There is no expectation to extend these moments into a lifetime of bliss. It is about being fully present for a few minutes and appreciating the circumstance or sensation. This I can do. So, I set out to learn more about joy.

My investigation led me to a podcast which discussed cultivating awareness and presence by noticing delights in the world.

Listen to that baby giggling. Delightful!
Look at that fluffy Bernese Mountain Dog. Delightful!
Notice the rich colors of the fall leaves. Delightful!

While I wholeheartedly embraced this daily practice, it still felt as if I was observing things which happened to me and around me.

What if I could take it one step further and purposefully create moments of joy in my everyday life? This way, I wasn’t waiting passively, but could actively architect a joyful feeling.

With this intention, I began a Year of Joy.

Each day, I plan a moment or two which makes me smile, in which I feel deeply present, which makes me laugh, or which inspires resounding gratitude.

Because I suspect you might be curious, here are some of the ways I have cultivated joy over the past few months:

• I woke up to watch the sunrise.
• I played tennis with a friend.
• I watched puppy videos on Instagram.
• I danced in the kitchen to my favorite 90s jam.
• I sang in the car.
• I gave myself a facial.
• I meditated at the pond close to my house.
• I stopped and looked at the stars.
• I laid on the grass and watched the clouds.
• I drank my coffee in bed.
• I sluffed my feet in the fallen leaves.
• I went for a long walk.

Straight talk--some days, it feels difficult to find fresh inspiration or to approach A Year of Joy in a way which doesn’t make it feel like a chore. But each time I rise to the challenge, I never walk away thinking, “Well that was a waste of time.” Quite the opposite. It pulls me out of the chaos and brings me back to myself, something which is always time well spent.

Maybe the thought of chasing A Year of Joy doesn’t appeal to you. It may sound precocious or overwhelming. While I respect that, I need to push back, just a little. Even if you have no desire to sign up for an entire year, I encourage you to take one small moment of reflection. Ask yourself when was the last time you felt joy? Does it happen often enough to lift you out of the grind and notice the awesomeness of life?

In whatever way you can, I implore you to cultivate joy. It’s highly underrated.

A few years ago, I had a sneaking suspicion that my work/life balance was not sustainable. In full disclosure, it wasn’t a whispering intuition. There was a forceful voice in my head yelling, “Hey Toots! Your obsessive need to prove your worth through your work is going to kill you. Get your shit together!”

I had been working two jobs for almost five years, the result of my “side hustle” gaining traction and taking up more of my time. The money was rolling in and for someone who has a financial scarcity mindset, success not only felt like security, but it was also a source of immense pride. Look at me go!

The Achiever in me tends to be my greatest strength, but also the poison which leads to a slow decay--physically, mentally, and spiritually.

Long story short, I quit my day job and chose to try my entrepreneurial shoes on for size. Even though I was mentally SO ready to attempt something new, I was absolutely unprepared for the emotional tidal wave of fear that would wash over me. I nearly drowned.

I had no idea how to work for myself--how to market my skills and expertise, seek opportunities for collaboration, or even budget based on an inconsistent income. I was used to being overscheduled from the time I woke up to the time my weary head finally hit the pillow at night. All of a sudden, I found myself with nothing but time...staring at my laptop, waiting for an email to arrive in my inbox. The lack of busy-ness was terrifying.

What have I done?

As I sat at the bottom of a deep, dark hole of self-doubt and self-pity, my mentor (a badass entrepreneur herself) suggested a lifeline in the form of a book. Reaching desperately for any shred of wisdom cast my way, I immediately ordered 10x is Easier than 2x by Dan Sullivan. This book blew my mindset wide open and forced me to pick up the pieces, assembling them in a new and provocative way.

Let me give you the highlights…

Those of us who are Achievers are ever-facing forward, chasing the next mountain to climb. However, as we reach one mountaintop, the view exposes another peak, then another waiting for our ascension. Rather than celebrating what we have accomplished, the finish line feels constantly moving. We are in the continuous motion of striving. It gets exhausting.

Dan Sullivan teaches a strategy known as The Gap and The Gain, where he advocates for a pause. Instead of obsessively moving forward, it is crucial to take a moment and look behind you. Appreciate how high you’ve climbed and how far you’ve come. Celebrate the wins and use them as motivation to keep going.

In a time when I felt on the precipice of failure, The Gap and The Gain helped me recognize the successes I’d had in the last six months leading up to the change in my career. It validated my drive and determination, reminding me that I could do (and have done) hard things. In a year, I would likely be celebrating the brave decision to begin this new adventure.

The second knowledge bomb was the concept that we cannot make massive changes by doing the same thing we’ve always done. Old habits can lead us to minor adjustments and tiny moves forward (2x) but if we want to reach for the stars and increase our success tenfold (10x), we need to let go of 80% of what we know.

Sullivan suggests an exercise which requires readers to look at the last decade (or more) of their lives and record the times they made a huge leap of faith. The instructions are to write down the cost of each decision (the 80% they let go of) as well as the value added as a result.

In engaging in this exercise, I was shocked by the number of instances when I had reached for 10x in my life and found the cost was worth it every time.

Now, I am in a season where I am attempting to 10x again. When I quit my job, I gave up my pension, my benefits, my financial security, my prestige, my accolades, and my identity. What I hope to gain is freedom of time, the opportunity to follow a dream, the expression of my creativity, and the ability to choose how I wanted to work and who I wanted to collaborate with. Writing down my past 10x successes was a visual reminder that I could absolutely make this work. It would simply take time, effort, and a steadfast belief in my abilities.

Why am I sharing this with you?

We often read of success when people have already climbed the mountain. They are at the top, basking in the glorious horizon. I want to share my experience while I am trudging one foot in front of the other, grinding towards the peak. I hope that by seeing me risk it all, by watching me trip and get back up, you might give yourself permission to do the same. I want you to chase your mountain top, but with the knowledge that the journey is sweaty, arduous, and downright fucking hard. But the view from the top makes it all worth it.

As you sprint towards the final days of this calendar year and begin to look ahead to 2024, you might consider pausing to think about what you really, really desire. Listen to that little voice which whispers, “What if…” and give it time to dream. Don’t be afraid to take a risk. Apparently, the view from the top is worth it. 

For me, one of the first markers of aging was the drastic change in my eyebrows. No one told me they would fall off my face the day after I turned forty. Though I found this shocking, you probably couldn’t tell my facial expression. No eyebrows, remember?

My morning routine now includes brushing my teeth and painting on my brows. I don’t generally wear much make-up but there is something ghostly about a dark brunette with nothing framing her eyes. It’s just creepy.

Today, as I gently dabbed undereye cream and moisturized my neck (in upward strokes, of course), I was struck by a hint of crow’s feet around my eyes and the emerging creases between my beautifully drawn brows. Don’t get me wrong, those wrinkles are supposed to be there, for I’m in my mid-forties. It’s just that for the last three or four years, they have been ironed out by a magical invention called Botox.

Staring at my reflection, I wondered what I would look like if I stopped injecting my face with poison. (As much as I covet Botox and love the vibrancy it gives my face, the truth is that I am suffering through countless needles leaking a foreign substance into my body. Counterintuitive to my vegetarian diet and consistent workouts, isn’t it?)

I have not seen my natural face since I turned forty. And, come to think of it, I have no idea what colour my hair actually is because I coat those “sparkly strands” with dye as soon as they dare show themselves upon my head.

This morning, it occurred to me that I have no idea how old I truly look—without the Botox, the eyebrow paint, and the hair dye.

That is fascinating. And fucked up.

During Covid, many women embraced their grey, proudly posting photos of their natural beauty across social media. I began to take screen shots of gorgeous salt and pepper hairstyles and stunning women who fiercely owned the aging process. More recently, I have made a conscious effort to fill my Instagram scroll with women who are gracefully getting older and who describe their wrinkles as proof of wisdom. I’m all for it. They are incredible, bad-asses and I want to be just like them.

Today, my morning coffee comes with a deep pondering about my own process. When will I be ready to meet what lies beneath it all? Will it be a slow tiptoe towards aging, or am I willing to cease the battle cold turkey? Am I confident enough to embrace the new (but old) face that looks back at me in the mirror? Will she still be beautiful, fabulous even?

I am excited and terrified to find out.
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But not today.