Cultivating Gratitude and Joy

The other night, Jim and I sat together in the quiet.

Me: Do you ever feel lonely?
Jim: Not really. It’s more like isolated. And a tad depressed.
Me: Yeah.
Jim: I’ve actually been thinking about counseling.
Me: Yeah. Me too.

We let the conversation linger there, two people who know all the “right” things. We’ve read the books, prayed the prayers, kept gratitude journals, and practiced positive thinking. And yet, sometimes we’re still sad.

That’s the truth no one really tells you: you can do the work and still find yourself hurting.

Joy vs. Happiness

What I’ve learned is this: joy is different from happiness.

Happiness is circumstantial. It shifts with the weather, your workload, or whether someone cuts you off in traffic.

Joy, though, that runs deeper. Joy is the steady hum of hope, faith, and love. It lives in the marrow of your soul.

Joy comes from knowing we are loved. Deeply. Unconditionally.

Marianne Williamson once said, “Joy is what happens to us when we allow ourselves to recognize how good things really are.”

So here’s the challenge: in the ebbs and flows of life, when sadness sits heavy in our chest, can we also make space for joy?

Sometimes the answer is no. Not yet. Sometimes the most courageous thing is to give sadness its breath and its place at the table. My mama’s wisdom always returns to me in those moments: “This too shall pass.”

And then morning comes, either literally or figuratively, and with it, joy.

Redefining Together

For years, road cycling was our thing. Our together. Years of riding side by side. Then life happened, and Jim wasn’t able to ride regularly due to his schedule and the pain in his hips.

For a while, I stepped away from my bike. Every ride reminded me of my loneliness. It wasn’t the same without Jim’s wheels spinning beside mine.

After a while, Jim offered to go with me. He was waiting for his 2nd hip surgery, and found that it was an incentive for him just as much as me. It helped him remember what he was fighting so hard to get back to. 

A couple of times a week over the past few months, Jim has supported me from the driver’s seat of the van. He leapfrogs ahead a few miles, then waits for me. Every time I ride past, my whole being lights up. My soul smiles.

We shout silly things as I pedal by — “Hup hup!” or “Who di who!” — small rituals that remind us we’re still a team, even if it looks different now.

There were seasons when Jim’s health felt uncertain, and our frustration was thick.
Were we happy? Not always.
But grateful? Every single day.
Joyful? Absolutely.

Because joy isn’t about perfect circumstances. It’s about presence, connection, and redefining what together looks like.

Gratitude as Practice

Gratitude and joy aren’t just attitudes. They’re practices. They ask us to show up again and again.

Catch a sunrise? Say thank you.
Receive a text from a friend? Let them know how much it meant.
Struggling with a colleague? Find one good thing and speak it out loud.

I have a circle of friends who share three gratitudes daily on video chat. Others I know keep gratitude journals. Jim jokes, “I can’t even wallow in self-pity for five minutes before someone comes along with a story so much worse.”

That’s the art of gratitude: realizing we don’t have to look far to find perspective. Yes, things may be hard. But within the hardship, there’s almost always something or someone to be grateful for.

Holding Space for Duality

As we move into what many consider the holiday season, I’m reminded to leave space for duality.

We can be sad and grateful.
We can be frustrated and joyful.
We can laugh through tears.

All of it can coexist. All of it is real. And maybe, just maybe, that’s the way it’s meant to be.

Want to explore more about embracing life’s dualities of busy and calm, angst and peace? Check out these posts: Your Power is in Your Peace, Cultivating Calm: How Our Energy Ripples Outward, and Cultivating Stillness.

©2025 Lori Ann King