The Quiet Kind of Joy

 

There is a kind of joy that does not shout from rooftops. It does not arrive with fireworks or grand announcements. It slips in quietly, almost unnoticed, and settles itself inside the small corners of our lives.

For a long time, I thought joy had to be loud to be real. That it had to be the kind that made everyone notice you, the kind that came with dancing crowds and unforgettable stories. But life, with all its twists and turns, has taught me something different: There is a softer, sturdier kind of joy. One that survives even the stormiest seasons.

It is in the mornings you open your eyes and realise you still have breath.

It is in the way a cup of tea warms your hands.

It is in the unexpected kindness of a stranger.

It is in your own laughter, even when it surprises you, at something so simple, so foolish, so beautifully human.

It is in knowing that, somehow, against all odds, you are still here.

This quiet joy does not demand performance. It does not wait for everything to be perfect. It does not scold you for the days you could barely hold yourself up.

It sits with you, patient and unbothered, reminding you that life, even when it is cracked and complicated, can still be utterly, heartbreakingly beautiful.

Some days, the big miracles do not come. The prayers are still unfolding. The longings are still tender. And yet, even there, joy plants itself like a stubborn little flower in the cracks of your life, refusing to be silenced.

Today, I am learning not to chase only after the loud joys. I am learning to bow my head and whisper thank you for the quiet ones:

• A long exhale after a hard day.
• A song that feels like a hug.
• A message from a friend who still remembers.
• A moment of laughter in the middle of tears.

Joy does not always have to announce itself with a bang. Sometimes, it simply stays. And that is enough.

Ciao😎