What sparks joy?
You know the kind I mean. The bone-deep sort of joy. The joy that tingles to your toes.
I know I probably should say my kids bring me pure joy. But f*ck that.
Ok, ok — they do — I’m not actually Satan. I love and adore my kids. But give me a strong flat white, standing under a clear blue sky, hearing the ocean crash on the beach — and my soul starts to sing.
I’ve been thinking a lot about joy lately. If I’m carving out time for myself — what sparks joy?
There are two things that I carve out time out for me, regularly.
- Rediscovering music. The heavier, the better.
I grew up in the country in the 90s. Friday nights consisted of smashing some air guitar with a tennis racquet to “Killing in the Name of”. As I write this, I’m listening to Tool’s Parabola, and I have actual goosebumps it’s so good. 😬
When I was 15 years old, I remember Tool announcing their Australian tour and coming to Perth. Yes! I got tickets for $30, and I could not wait to hear Stinkfist in a huge arena; however, Mum did not entirely agree — I missed out on that live gig, but it didn’t stop my discovery and growing love for all things Grunge and Metal.
But, somewhere along the way, I stopped listening to it — perhaps I was embarrassed by my love of Metal? Maybe I thought grown-ups with small kids couldn’t listen to Metal anymore? I know it never went down too well at dinner parties or on family road trips. 🤣
In 2019, I finally saw Tool live in concert. The tickets were a lot more than $30, but it was sensational. It sparked something in me, and I started booking as many live gigs as possible — all for 2020. I had a concert booked for almost every month of the year — something to celebrate the year I turned 40. And then, the pandemic. No more live music. The devastation I felt — we all did — was brutal. And the music industry continues to suffer.
Possibly because of the lack of live gigs, I started listening to a lot of Metal again. Sharing YouTube clips with my fellow music lovers, revelling in the joy of a (recorded) live performance or a song I’d forgotten I loved. The Foo Fighters, Chilli Peppers, Metallica, Stone Temple Pilots, Jane’s Addiction, Audioslave, so many.
I rediscovered how music makes my whole body get in sync — especially when it’s really loud.
I now love sharing this music with my kids, watching them headbang and asking, “Mumma, make me your guitar!”
(Side note — Metallica’s Enter Sandman is still the best all-time song for kid-friendly headbanging and air guitar, but I can’t actually play the guitar.)
2. The majesty of the ocean.
The sound of the crashing waves meeting the wet sand. The salty air that fills your lungs. The majesty of it. Having very recently relocated to the Gold Coast (I’ll tell you about this next time), I’ve been fortunate to spend time sitting at or walking on the beach and really listening to the ocean — feeling the sand between my toes.
I’ve also realised how incredibly therapeutic it is to create the space to think things through at the beach.
All this might sound bleeding obvious, and maybe you’re right. But for me, rediscovering these small joys — reclaiming what I want — feels simply magical. And I bloody love it.
