Choosing Joy

Today was one of those travel days.
I left my house at 4 a.m. for a 6 a.m. flight that ended up being delayed more than 12 hours. It might as well have been canceled. I rebooked onto another flight—this one with a layover, unlike the original direct—and what should’ve taken a few hours turned into an all-day saga.  

Still, it could’ve been worse.  

I watched plenty of people behave poorly—snapping at gate agents and venting their frustration at folks who had absolutely no control over the situation. But I also caught glimpses of knowing, tired smiles from fellow rebooked travelers. That quiet camaraderie, the shared exhaustion, made it all feel a little more bearable—almost like it was worth it.

It reminded me of a moment early in my career.  

Years ago, I was flying from Atlanta to New York for my very first meeting with the buyers at Bergdorf Goodman. I don’t remember exactly what went wrong with the flight, but we were very delayed. So delayed that I didn’t have time to go to my hotel or change clothes. I’ll be in a similar situation today.  

Back then, I was flustered. I hadn’t received some important info from someone who was helping me, and I was terrified to walk into such a big meeting unprepared. But I played the hand I was dealt and made the most of it. I remember thinking, “There’s no way I can walk in wearing jeans.” So in the back of the cab, I pulled on a long Double JJ skirt over my jeans, then shimmied the jeans off underneath.  

Today, I won’t be repeating that trick—I’ll find a proper changing room—but I will be dragging my bag into a fancy store, feeling a little rushed and a lot tired.

I once read that while we can’t always control what happens to us, we can control how we respond. So I’ve decided not to let this bad day spill over onto anyone else. In fact, I’ve decided the rest of my day will be so good, it’ll make up for the joy that got lost along the way.

I also remember someone telling me the difference between happiness and joy, and between sight and vision.  

Happiness, like sight, is external and fleeting. The beauty you see or feel one moment can disappear the next, and just like that—your happiness goes with it. But joy—like vision—is internal. It’s something you cultivate. It’s yours to protect.  

So today, I’m choosing joy.  

I’m choosing it because I’m blessed to do work I love, with and for people I care about. I’m choosing it because I want to build a life rooted in joy—regardless of the delays, detours, or wrinkles in the plan.

And I hope that on your worst days, you’re able to reach deep and find the best version of yourself. Not for anyone else—though others will appreciate it—but because it’s simply a better way to live.