Hullo, friends!

This week…has been better than last.

I’ve been wanting to start this newsletter for months.

And life keeps getting in the way.

So, I decided rather than wait for a perfect time to launch, I was just going to do it.

No overthinking. No outrageous planning.

Just do it.

Some weeks will be longer than others. All of them will have more pictures.

Sadly, minutes before I prepared to send, the internet went out. And this was all my hotspot could manage.

And I refuse to let this dampen my mood.

We’re channeling joy here. So happy you could join us.

—Nicole

I need a passion project.

And that project…is my life.

Life has been a lot lately.

Not just mine. The whole world feels heavy sometimes.

There was a time in my life when weekends meant bookstores, festivals, concerts, road trips, dinner with friends, movies, game nights, and spontaneous adventures.

And while not every part of those years was healthy or happy, I miss feeling connected to life.

Somewhere along the way, my world became smaller.

At first, it happened slowly enough that I could explain it away.

I spent years in a relationship where life revolved around surviving problems, managing emotions, carrying responsibilities, navigating instability, and trying to hold everything together.

And eventually, without fully realizing it, I stopped exploring.

I stopped experiencing.

Stopped trying new things.

Stopped asking myself what I actually wanted…which became painfully obvious when I moved into the townhome and realized I had no idea how I wanted to furnish or decorate it.

After spending so many years trying to make other people happy, I wasn’t even sure what made me happy anymore.

That realization changed me.

Because I realized I didn’t just want to survive this season of my life.

I wanted to rebuild.

Not just financially or practically, but emotionally too.

I wanted a fuller life again.
A softer life.
A more intentional life.

And that meant making real changes.

Not dramatic overnight transformations.

Just small, meaningful choices that slowly reconnect me to myself again.

This is what I told myself. I was confident that I could turn things around, but not without a long, hard look at what needed changing first.

And honestly, I was having a hard time thinking about making meaningful, long-term changes when I was overwhelmed with surviving day-to-day.

Then I saw a video on YouTube. There was wisdom shared by those who had survived the AIDS epidemic. The man talked about how they would bury their friends in the morning, protest in the afternoon, and then dance all night. And while it might not have made sense to some, I truly connected with this concept when he explained it was about seeking joy, that this was the only way to survive. Protesting and burying friends are heavy tasks. Life requires balance. And the balance for darkness is light. The balance for sadness…joy.

In a time when I’m grieving unexpected endings, endless caregiving, and facing so much loss, I needed to make a concerted effort to seek joy.

Oh, and this is how neuroscience entered the chat. Because the minute I decided to figure this out, how to train my brain for happy, all research led to my reticular activating system (RAS).

Think of it like…when you buy a new vehicle, one you might not have owned before, and then all of a sudden, you start seeing them everywhere. Is it because there are suddenly more on the road? Maybe. But it’s far more likely that your RAS kicked in and decided since you liked your vehicle so much, you should see them everywhere.

That’s how your brain works. So…if you start looking for happiness, for anything that sparks joy, also known as…a glimmer, then next thing you know, your RAS will filter experiences, moments, and steer you toward a glimmer-filled life.

I wanted that. Glimmers. Everywhere.

That’s what She Seeks Joy will explore. My commitment to this project. Because nothing will inspire me to follow through like making it a public journey. I can quit on myself, but I hate letting other people down.

So here’s what I’m planning to do moving forward:

That’s the plan.

Will it change? Probably.

Sometimes I have to measure my expectations. It’s not entirely about my capacity. We’ll see what my daughter’s health can handle. And we’ll see what’s in the budget.

There’s still one more project I’ll be sharing soon, the project where I work on me, rebuilding from the inside out. Watch for more on the Phoenix Reset. (I have a partner on this and she was pulled away to work on a secret television project I’m not sure I’m allowed to talk about yet.)

So if any of this sounds like something that will help you, too, I’d love for you to stick around. See, I don’t want this to be all about me. I want you to share your glimmers, your projects, your plans, and your recipes. If there’s anything I’ve learned through the years, it’s that pain shared lightens, and joy shared grows.

Come grow with me.