I first saw the words “find joy in the in between” on a little sign at a café near Anna Maria Island, Florida. It was winter, we were deep in transition, and I was sitting in the thick of it.

We had just moved cross-country from Texas, two adults, two kids, and two dogs crammed into an 800 sq ft beach cottage rental. My son didn’t have a daycare spot yet. Our house in Texas hadn’t sold. Every day felt like dread mixed with uncertainty. I was questioning everything: Did we make the right move? Would we find community here? Why did it feel like I was both moving forward and completely stuck at the same time?

I was navigating old home dynamics, managing intrusive thoughts, and trying to hold it all together while working full time and being present for my kids.

Then I saw that quote. It stopped me. That’s it, I thought. I think this is the whole point.

We spend so much time waiting for stability waiting for the dream house, for kids to get older, for things to be easier. We brace ourselves through tough seasons, telling ourselves we’ll breathe on the other side. But the truth is, the “other side” is always moving. There’s always another hill to climb.

The real work, is learning to find joy in the mundane, the every day, in the in-between.

And sometimes, joy isn’t natural. To be honest, at first it may have to be pre-planned. Manufactured. A bit of a force. But that’s how you build the muscle. To set yourself on a course of finding joy in the everyday, the mundane.

You start by making little decisions. For example, today, I’m going to take the kids to the playground instead of rushing home after school. Today, I’m going to plan a meal outside of the house because it’s one night I don’t have to cook or clean. Today, I’m going to work from a cafe vs. working from home and dress like a real human, and enjoy a cup coffee surrounded by strangers.

And soon, these choices start to stack. You realize you’re building momentum. You’re creating a rhythm of small, imperfect joyful moments that may carry you through the mess.

Joy starts to look like:

• A solo trip to Target after bedtime, just so you can remember what it feels like to drive at night in silence and wander the aisles without anyone begging for snacks or melting down.
• A 5:30 AM workout that feels more like a gift to yourself than an obligation, time for your body, your breath, your mind. The balancing and regulation needed to start your day.
• A spontaneous drive to the beach after daycare, even if it ends in sandy meltdowns and car seat chaos because you tried, and that counts too.

This is how we reframe our days.

This is how we teach ourselves and our kids that joy isn’t something we wait for. It’s something we create, right in the middle of the chaos, the routine, the hard days.

So yes, I might add tattoo #3 someday soon. Because finding joy in the in between isn’t just a cool idea. It’s a practice. A way of surviving and maybe even thriving while your story is unfolding. And it’s worth fighting for.

But hey, you might say this won’t work for me. My routine is already way too chaotic, I travel for work, we have too many hobbies, the kids are overbooked. I get it. I used to be you.

I used to move through life by filling my nights and weekends with activities and to do’s that I thought would fill my cup. I used to think 1) everything is a P1 (priority one) 2) busy = fulfilled

But what I really learned is busy meant I didn’t have to deal with my true feelings. And being busy was actually making me feel overworked, burnt out and less capable of regulating my emotions. Now I’m not saying that’s how you’re feeling, but I am saying maybe it’s time to flip the scrip, or switch up your routine and notice how it makes you feel.

Here’s how I flipped the script.

I started talking to my husband about the things that felt heavy, for example; making the kids’ lunches every day, managing booking, driving and attending appointments, remembering to buy dog food, maintaining our social calendar, always cleaning, planning date nights, family trips, etc. etc.

From there we created shared to-do lists with realistic expectations for the week. And let me tell you we recalibrate often. It’s not a one-and-done conversation it’s a living, breathing practice. But it has freed up my brain and my capacity giving me the ability to find real joy. Not just in big, intentional moments but in the slow, ordinary ones too.

So if you’re feeling like you can’t put anything down, I’d gently ask:
What can you give to a partner, family member or friend?
And if that’s not an option, what can you actually put down? At least right now.
What will happen if you don’t clean the kitchen tonight? What will happen if you empower a coworker to step up. What will happen if say no to the plans this weekend because you need rest. Or say yes to a kid free day with friends. Or say yes to spontaneous after work plans.

I think this analogy about juggling glass and plastic balls sums it up nicely:

We’re all juggling. Juggling work, family, friends, appointments, projects. The trick is knowing which balls will shatter if they fall, and which will bounce. Because some of those balls are glass, while others a rubber. Being a mom, partner, friend, daughter, sister, co-worker, means each week figuring out which balls are made of glass vs. plastic. Some will drop, but they won’t shatter. And ultimately remember, it’s okay to break a few balls while we figure it out. After all we’re only human.