A few weeks ago I was on vacation. One afternoon I was engaged in one of my favorite activities: reading a good book on the deck overlooking the ocean. The sky’s blue stretched without end, the sun offered the most perfect light and the gentle breeze was a delicious accompaniment to the 80-degree day. I couldn’t ask for anything better or more; I was perfectly content and all was right with the world.
And then, on the deck below, Terri, the inn manager came out and greeted two other guests with warm hugs and a hearty welcome. The three of them chatted, laughing, catching up with each other the way one does when returning to a familiar spot. My partner and I had had a similar warm moment with Terri earlier that day.
But now, as I overheard the laughter and sensed the easy socializing, I had an inner “ping” of feeling left out. I wanted to join them; I wanted to laugh, too! I wanted to take part in what an old friend once called “barn warmth” — that convivial humanity that depends on nothing more than proximity and some easy social connection. I couldn’t hear the words clearly and couldn’t make out the topic, but I recognized the quality of connecting, and that it was happening without me.
It reminded me of times as a child I had felt left out. Not in a big way — not bullied or passed over — just not part of a specific social circle at that moment.
It was just enough of a ping to get my attention; I had moved so quickly from a state of pure contentment to wishing for more! Wanting something that I perceived as missing.
“Darling! (I try to use endearing names for myself in such moments) Darling! Sweetheart! You are not ‘outside’ of anything,” I said to myself. “You’re here, on the upper deck, enjoying the waves and the laughter down below. That is all.”
With this inner rejoinder, my vision and perception expanded. I took in the sky and the waves. My attention came into the present moment, helped by the sweet way I had connected with myself. And then, as I really listened to the laughter, I could feel the warm heartedness, the care and enjoyment. I could feel it warming my own heart and I felt gratitude to be staying at a place that was so welcoming, how so many of us returned year after year, appreciative of the gracefulness offered in the accommodations and in the warmth and energy of the people who worked there.
In a matter of seconds, the ping, the contraction shifted, and I felt an in-rush of delight, and connection. Nothing “missing.”
Maybe I wasn't part of the conversation but I knew the feeling of being seen and welcomed. I knew how the sound of laughter can touch all those who hear it. I could join as a supportive bystander, cheering from the sidelines, delighting in the delight of others. This choice to join was within my control, and in doing so, the contraction melted.
This is appreciative joy: enjoying another’s good fortune, another’s good feeling.
In that moment, it was a very simple and uncomplicated shift. Hearing the good cheer on the lower deck, I couldn’t help but feel touched, opened.
And it’s not always so simple!
It’s helpful to begin with something relatively easy like a social exchange. A momentary recognition of ease and good wishes.
The research around appreciative joy shows that, like other mindfulness practices, it strengthens specific neural connections that support increased resilience and positive mind states. While we often focus on empathy when others face challenges, research shows that our resonance with others’ good fortune bolsters neural circuitry that emphasizes deliberate mental processes occuring in the prefrontal cortex region. This area has to do with learning, planning and decision-making. While this region is also activated when we empathize with others’ emotional distress, sympathetic joy activates a wider network.
Knowing this, I find it supportive to engage in simple acts of appreciative or sympathetic joy whenever I can. Relishing others’ good fortune wherever possible helps me widen the lens when I feel scarcity, competitiveness or comparisons arise in my mind. These states are certainly more challenging! But over time, like with all mindfulness practices, we can expand our capacity, work with patience and care at our edge, and open new doors of possibility.
Like with loving-kindness meditation, we can use phrases to support our intentions for practice or we can simply dwell with the sensations that arise as we deliberately cultivate this quality. And like loving-kindness, we also include ourselves. Being happy for ourselves, savoring joyful moments, giving ourselves permission to fully appreciate our own good fortune can be challenging. We have a false sense that if we enjoy our own joy, we are somehow taking something from others. This is another reason to cultivate a formal sympathetic joy practice: We deserve to experience all of our lives.