Small Rituals That Transform Regular Days into Joyful Days

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If we’re not careful, our life can flash before our eyes. And that’s without a near-death incident.

The days roll into weeks; weeks into months; and before you know it, your kid’s picking out your care-home and all the pets you’ve ever had are long gone (this from someone who’s just witnessed the death of a family dog, Teddy — it’s more brutal than you’re ever prepared for).

If we think about our older, wiser selves, I’m certain they’d tell us to care less what others think of us, they’d tell us to love more fiercely, and they’d say we need to make the most of this time we’ve been given.

And that, really, is my mission with Joyful, and with my signature program Joy Unplugged;

I’m here to help us get more joy from these finite days of ours.

But what about the days that just aren’t inherently joyful? Am I deluded to think they can include a bit of yellowy goodness, too?

I’m not. And they can.

In amongst those days your skin feels weird, your tea goes cold, and someone on the internet is yelling about productivity again, you can find joy.

Without having to buy a one-way ticket to Bali or overhauling your entire life.

We just need a few small rituals for this kind of joy. Rituals that stitch meaning into the mundane; rituals that anchor us into the moment, into our own worthwhile existence, into aliveness itself.

Here are 10 of my favourites rituals to transform regular days into joyful ones

Some cost nothing. Others might cost a fiver. None require a ring light, a trust fund, or enlightenment.

You don’t need to do them all — just choose one or two that feel delicious and doable, and return to them when life starts to feel like sandpaper.

Zero-cost rituals:

1. Drink tea like a Victorian professor

The kind who studies tea. Who drinks only from a cup and saucer. Maybe something herbal, maybe earl grey, maybe just hot lemon water. The tea itself is irrelevant, it’s about the pause the tea-drinking requires. The studying of the moment itself.

This kind of approach to tea-drinking means you sit, you sip, and you do nothing else. No phone. No inbox. Just the quiet slurp, the noticing, the steam on your face.

You’re not trying to fix anything. You’re just reminding yourself that slowness still exists and that you’re allowed to have it.

This, my friend, is basic mindfulness and I can tell you’re already underrating it. Don’t. It’s more powerful (and soothing) than you know.

2. Listen to music like your best mate made it

A single track, you choose. And listen to it carefully. What’s your favourite part? What moves does your body want to make?

Maybe it’s not a “dance like nobody’s watching” moment (although, by all means, go there). Maybe it’s just a simple sway.

This resets your nervous system quicker than any meditation app you half-finished.

Especially if you’ve been hunched at a screen doing battle with spreadsheets / small children / someone who keeps saying “just circling back”.

3. Habit-stack your front door

You read correctly. Let’s use your front door (or another door you go through often during your every day) and connect it to this mini ritual of goodness. Picture it now. Imagine, the next time you reach the door, it’s suddenly bright yellow. You’re sure it wasn’t bright yellow before, but now it is. And it’s got your name - your full name - written in repeat all over it. In glitter. And there’s a little golden monkey hanging from the frame. Wait… what?

Make this emotive, get a little confused, what the hell’s happening?

Yeah, that’s the feeling.

Now, when you actually reach that door, you’re way more likely to remember the weird yellow name-daubing monkey thing. And then you’ll remember to ritualise it.

This is the kind of check-in we never do because we’re too busy throwing our keys into the fruit bowl and yelling “What’s for dinner?”.

Instead, remember to do the visualisation, then when you walk through that doorway, find something joyful. A two-step dance move, a deeper breath, an air punch, high-five that monkey…

This one small doorway ritual can change your whole routine. You start interrupting the rushing next-task-oriented whirlwind, and start being with yourself instead.

Photo by Joseph Albanese on Unsplash

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4. Skincare like you’re on a L’oreal advert

I know you. You’re probably one of those people who slaps on moisturiser like you’re two seconds from missing the last bus. Not okay.

Moisturise like a queen. Like you’re buttering the most sacred toast of your life.

It’s not about skincare. It’s about self-regard. Your body gets to feel adored by you, even if you’ve spent the rest of the day ignoring it. And bonus: face and body self-massage is a great nervous system down-regulator.

5. The five things

At the end of your day, before you put your phone on charge and scroll into oblivion, name 5 things:

• Something that made you laugh

• Something you’re proud of

• Something that went better than expected

• Something you’re looking forward to

• Something that felt beautiful (even a tiny flicker)

You don’t need to write them down (but bonus points if you do). This is just a soft rewiring. So your brain doesn’t only remember the chaos, but also the quiet glimmers of goodness.

6. Don’t hate your dog because he shit on the carpet again

I say this for Teddy. Old guy Ted-bags. Sir Tedward. Teddington Smythe. Little fat smush-muffin. Or maybe I’m just saying it for any pet-owner reading this: don’t take them for granted. Saying goodbye to him after 11 years is probably the hardest thing I’ve had to do.

Love you, little fella. Thanks for being my buddy. I didn’t mean it when I was cross.

These fluffy little rascals bring more joy into our days than we realise when we’re in the middle of life with them. Give them a squish and don’t take the cuddles (and mischief) for granted.

Little Teddington Smythe, keeping a close eye on me and my snacks. RIP, buddy.

Read more on Substack

Low-cost rituals

7. Buy yourself flowers

Don’t be waiting for no one, my friend. Buy them for yourself, even if they’re a £1 bunch from Tesco. There’s something gloriously luxurious, decadent, and joyful about freshly-cut flowers adorning your dining table.

8. Take yourself out on a date

Again, don’t wait for them to be available to go to that restaurant / museum / gallery / event / film you’ve been eyeing up. Take yourself. No one cares that you’re alone, no one will notice as much as you think, and you’ll have a WAY better time than you think.

9. Random acts of kindness

Spend money on this, make it free, but don’t underestimate it. Paying it forward in some way — giving someone a fat tip, paying for someone’s petrol, buying a stranger flowers, or even just compliments to strangers or little love-notes left in weird places… these things matter more than you know. And I don’t mean just for those on the receiving end. Try it and I dare you not to feel a little magic.

10. Become a Joyful subscriber

This one’s about investing in joy like it actually matters (because it does). Becoming a paid Joyful subscriber isn’t just supporting my work (although, hi, thank you) — it’s choosing to fill your own cup on a regular basis.

You begin with a structured 6-week Regulation Foundations series and learn how to become truly resilient.

Not random content. No info overload.Just consistent nervous system training.

(Find out more about the paid tier here.)

Free readers of Joyful understand stress. Paid members change how their body responds to it.

None of these things will solve capitalism or clean your fridge or make your boss less of a micro-managing energy vampire.

But they will shift your state and invite a little more goodness into your day. And that shift is the start of everything.

And remember: a joyful life is just a regular life with better rituals.

Joy doesn’t ask for more from you. It asks you to notice what’s already here. And when we notice, we remember that even on the messiest days, there’s still beauty to be found and goodness to be chosen.