Written by Tiane Davis
I remember a time when I was 11 or 12 years old at a sleepover with a group of friends, telling secrets and getting into arguments over who got to sleep with the best pillow pet. At one point in the night, we all stopped talking because we heard the sound of birds chirping. We all looked around at each other with mischievous smiles and decided without a word that this was our sign to get some rest.
“We stayed up so late that we heard the birds start singing!” my friend told her mom while we were all eating breakfast the next morning.
She said it in a way that reminded everyone we were awake when we weren’t supposed to be. For some reason I never forgot that. The birds were singing, and that was a sign that the morning had arrived. When I am awake late at night or early in the morning, the sound of birds chirping tells me that the world is beginning its day and that I either need to go to sleep or get to work. I am reminded of when I was a child and staying up past 3 a.m. was something I could get in trouble for.
More importantly, the sound of birds chirping in the middle of the night makes me think of a specific time when I was excited to be alive with people I loved; it is a reminder for me to be happy.
So many little signals in life exist that tell us how to behave or how to think, and I have no explanation for any of them except that they consistently remind me to feel a specific way.
At a certain point in the past year or two, I started writing down those prompts, specifically the ones that tell me, “Be happy!”
A few examples of things I have put on my list are “free refills,” “new notebooks,” “cheap gas,” “awesome rocks” and “casserole.” Sometimes I write down more broad ideas, like “being proud of someone,” “being unbothered” or simply the names of people I love. As my list gets longer, I find that even the inconvenient parts of my life sometimes make me laugh or smile.
The cues for joy I have noticed over time were never things I needed to write down to remember; they just happened. I never followed them as if they were rules; they just gave me a certain feeling and made me want to do something about it, even if that something was just smiling to myself. Simply acknowledging that these things exist and bring me joy encourages me to search for more.
We learn a lot of cues for our survival, but how many of them are for joy and comfort? The sound of a person yelling across the street tells me I need to keep my guard up when I leave the house. The smell of smoke tells me something is probably on fire. The sound of my alarm in the morning is a signal to my body that it needs to get out of bed.
But what about the sight of a friend’s car pulling into my driveway? Or the sound of a song that reminds me of a good time in my life? I think some things in life were created to be cues of joy, and they are worth writing down or at least recognizing.
I find so much comfort in the thought that my life can be filled with reminders to enjoy the days I am living. Not everything exists for the sole purpose of making us happy, but many things have the potential to contriute to our happiness.
I have realized that joy is sometimes a feeling I need to be reminded of. Just like exercising or writing in my journal are habits that require a bit of an effort to maintain, the feeling of joy is something I forget if I am not careful, especially if my everyday reminders are scarce or I am too sad or stressed to remember. That is why I try to write down the things that make me happy. If I ever need reminders, I can read my ongoing list of things that tell me there are good things in the world.
Along with writing down my own reminders, I have realized I can be a reminder of joy to others as well. If it looks like a friend needs a hug, I want to be able to give them that and remind them that they are loved. If it looks like a person is worried or stressed, I want to at least share a smile with them to remind them that things can be okay. Life is better with a bit of joy, and it is okay if we need reminders to feel it sometimes.
