Finding Joy When It Feels Out of Reach

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about a time in my life when I was deeply depressed.

From the outside, I looked fine. I was still showing up, doing what needed to be done but inside I felt numb, flat, heavy and otally disconnected from myself and from life.

Joy felt like something that belonged to someone else.I wasn’t crying every day or falling apart… I was just existing. Going through the motions, trying to keep up and feeling like I was failing anyway.

It’s hard to explain this kind of disconnection unless you’ve lived it. When joy doesn’t just feel distant, it feels impossible.

But something started to shift when I began the deeper healing work. Not all at once. Not in some big, life-changing way.

Just in tiny moments.

Moments that would have been easy to miss if I wasn’t paying attention.

I remember one day, I was driving alone and a song I used to love came on. Without thinking, I started singing. Loud. Like, really singing.

And I felt something move in my chest, something I hadn’t felt in a long time. It wasn’t big. It wasn’t dramatic. But it was enough to remind me: I’m still here.

Another time, I was walking in the forest with my dog Scout. The sun was shining, it was a beautiful day and for a split second - I felt excited. Not about anything in particular, just this little flicker of aliveness in my body.

And again, it stopped me in my tracks. Not because it fixed everything but because it reminded me that feeling good was still possible. That I wasn’t as far gone as I had feared.

These moments didn’t come with a plan. They didn’t show up after a perfect morning routine or a major breakthrough. They showed up quietly.

In a song. In the sunlight. In a walk in the woods.

And that’s what I want you to know if you’re feeling far away from yourself right now: Healing doesn’t always look like a big shift. Sometimes, it starts in the most ordinary, beautiful moments.The ones you almost miss.The ones that whisper, You’re still here. Keep going.

If joy feels unreachable right now, you’re not broken. You’re not doing it wrong. You might just be in the in-between - the space where numbness slowly gives way to feeling again.

So here’s your invitation: Look for the glimmers. The small sparks of joy, lightness, or curiosity. Don’t force them. Just notice.

Because those tiny moments? They’re not nothing. They’re everything.

Mel x