Joy is tender too.

We often forget the tenderness that arises after interrupted joy.

After all the pain and restrictions in the past few years, I think most of us have seen one of our joys interrupted. Maybe you were prevented from visiting a loved one or a beloved place. Maybe your group sports practices were cancelled, or you missed a yearly party—or had to postpone an important celebration, like a wedding.

The example that comes to mind from my personal life is incredibly odd, so I will save it for later, when we talk about honing currents.

For now, I just want to articulate what might happen when you experience a joy interrupted:

It may have never occurred to you that this joy could be taken away—even if it was only briefly, but that happens anyway.

And when that joy returns to your life, when group practices resume or the date of your wedding is booked, a part of you may hang on to a thread of fear: What if it gets taken away again?

These interrupted joys are touchstones too.

If you can explore the story of its loss and return, if you unpack the experience until you find a meaning that steadies you, you can rebuild trust with that joy again.

And that’s incredibly helpful in tending transformation fatigue. Joy is a necessary ingredient that fuels transformation.