Today, on a solo walk to my neighbourhood public library, I experienced several moments of joy.

The first was a feeling of peace that comes from listening to a good podcast. I've fallen in love with Gyles Brandreth's podcast Rosebud (which I referenced in last night's post). Brandreth is a British broadcaster, writer and former UK Member of Parliament. In his latest creative endeavour, Brandreth has conversations with "famous and fascinating people about their first memories and first experiences." In the episode I listened to this afternoon, Brandreth speaks to Ken Bruce, a much-loved UK radio DJ. The part that made me smile was an exchange they had about why they're both still working in their 70s. Bruce says that one of the reasons he hasn't yet retired is that he still has children going through education. Brandreth points out that, with six children, Bruce needs the money, just as he (Brandreth) needs income to support his three children. The Rosebud host says, "Money is the one thing keeping me in touch with these children." Just as I was listening to that part of the conversation and smiling at the humour in it, I was passing a couple, my neighbours who were working in their front yard. To explain my grin, I told them what I had just heard the two gentlemen say. The husband said to me, with a knowing look on his face, "They're not wrong."

At the public library, I asked a librarian who was reshelving books to show me where I would find French books appropriate for a child in grade 1. She was both knowledgeable and helpful, as all library personnel seem to be. Later, as I was sitting on a small couch in the children's section, reading through a selection of books, I heard the librarian say to a young boy: "You're a gamer, right?" When the boy nodded, she added: "I have a great book for you." That brought me joy.

As I made my way back home, I passed a store that specializes in textile arts. Outside, sitting on lawn chairs in the parking lot, was a group of knitters. I wondered whether this was a Saturday afternoon knitting group that normally met inside the store but, owing to the warm temperatures on this April day in Ottawa, opted to meet outside. I thought this was charming.

A few minutes later, I saw an adorable dog, sitting on the lap of its owner as she drove out of the parking lot of a dog-grooming salon. The little white pup was looking at me, appearing quite pleased with its new spring do.

All these sights and sounds brought me joy. I wanted to remember them.

"The difficulty with perfectionists is if they become the head of something, they may view other people through the lens of perfectionism, which looks at what people do wrong, not what they do right.... [I]t’s a common problem we see in the workplace with leaders with that pattern. They were very good as individual contributors. That’s why they became a team leader or whatever. But once they lead, they don’t realize that they need to coach, that [they] need to see that people can improve.... The best leaders understand that part of their leadership is not just inspiring and guiding and motivating, but also helping people get better at what they’re doing. Not dismissing them, as 'You’re not good at that.'"

— Daniel Goleman

"Out of these flat almost two-dimensional boxes of paper will spring mountains, lions, concerts, galaxies, heroes. You will meet people who have been all but destroyed, who have risen up and will bring you with them. Books and stories are medicine, plaster casts for broken lives and hearts, slings for weakened spirits. And in reading, you will laugh harder than you ever imagined laughing, and this will be magic, heaven, and salvation. I promise."

— Anne Lamott

— Erin Hanson

Languishing is not burnout or depression, notes Grant, as we still have energy and hope. It's more a sense of feeling joyless and aimless, of lacking motivation and focus, of muddling through. So what's the significance of flow? Grant explains: "During the early days of the pandemic, the best predictor of well-being wasn’t optimism or mindfulness—it was flow. People who became more immersed in their projects managed to avoid languishing and maintained their prepandemic happiness." To reach the elusive state of flow, Grant recommends two things. First, give yourself some uninterrupted time, which may require setting boundaries. Second, focus on a small goal.

A dear friend told me that, for years, she listened politely and smiled when people talked to her about mindfulness and meditation. It wasn't until three years after retirement, when she realized her nervous system was still in overdrive, that she discovered the power and quiet of living in and appreciating the moment. She confided that devoting just 12 minutes a day to meditation has changed her life and dramatically increased her ability to cope.

"Scott Wittman likes to joke that, of all the comedy people he knows, and he knows many, I am 'the only one who's truly laughing on the inside.' But my upbeat nature is also a function of resilience: a firm belief in what I told my son Henry that night before Nancy died—that tough experiences Teflon-coat you and strengthen you against further adversity. This lesson is, I suppose, a major reason I wrote this book: because along the way I've picked up the wisdom that bad things happen, and yet the sun still comes up the next day, and it's up to you to carry on living your life and keeping your setbacks in perspective. You also have to understand that on some level, these horrible and sad things happen to everyone; the mark of a man is not just how he survives it all but also what wisdom he's gained from the experience. My cheerfulness on TV talk shows isn't faked, but it is also far from the product of a life gone perfectly."

— Martin Short

"Feeling appreciated is one of the most important needs that people have. When you share with someone your appreciation and gratitude, they will not forget you. Appreciation will return to you many times."

— Steve Brunkhorst

To bring joy to others, do what you can, with what you have, where you are.

When we grow up in circumstances that feel out of control, we can fall into the habit of trying to oversee everything and everyone around us. We control because we're afraid not to or because we think we have to. This tendency is often motivated by an altruistic desire to prevent those we love from experiencing pain or loss and to similarly prevent ourselves from feeling pain or loss.... But such a coping mechanism can lead to our becoming overly invested in the lives of our loved ones, taking responsibility for things that are not ours to manage, no matter how admirable and heroic such a response may appear to ourselves and others. Indeed, codependents can look hyper responsible. But when we take that role to an extreme, we can become over-committed, exhausted, worried, hurt, unhappy and resentful.

I know that there will always be messes to clean up, dishes to do, laundry to wash, food to cook, and errands to run. But I also know that there will always be loved ones to care for, treats to bake, calls to make, favours to do, and blog posts to write. Work is an opportunity to serve—others as well as ourselves—no matter what form that work takes, even something as humble as washing a kitchen floor.

I want people to know that you can go through something really hard and still, even in the midst of that hard thing, see the beauty in the world, and the love in the world, and take that beauty into your life, and appreciate that day, because that day you've been given.

To illustrate the concept of imagining a different version of yourself, [Joanne] Lipman describes a conversation with James Patterson. Years ago, she interviewed Patterson, then a successful advertising executive, with the intent of focusing on his latest campaign for a fast food company. Instead, Patterson wanted to talk about writing fiction. A decade later, Lipman saw Patterson on TV, holding up his latest book.

In my career, the more I worked on my relationships with my bosses, my clients, my peers and my employees, the better my support to them and the happier I was (it truly was in the giving that I received). Yes, relationships take time, but they produce results that are better than just about anything else, including authority, governance and experience.

For content creators, it's easy to fall into the trap of measuring our success by things that can be counted, such as the number of likes or shares our posts garner. But our real contribution is in the impossible-to-measure impact we have on consumers of our content. Perhaps they feel a tiny bit more optimistic, or will be a tiny bit more kind, or will take a tiny bit more responsibility in their lives as a result of something we shared. Maybe they will embrace harmony, or see people who are different from them in a new light, or open up to a partner.