For those of you who have been following my journey, you know that this year I put everything into a piece of land in California. We closed on the acreage in June. It felt like a return home. A place to begin again.
We built a tiny cabin with care. We planned to do things properly. We were preparing to open a building permit, live lightly on our family land, and slowly work toward building a home.
Then life shifted.
A neighbor called in because we had a conversion bus and an RV on our property before the permit was officially open. Suddenly, we had to move off of our family land entirely. What we thought would be a season of grounding became expensive and daunting. There were very real moments when we almost gave up. I almost gave up.
About a week ago, something softened and strengthened in me at the same time. Not dramatically. Just a quiet decision to stop carrying it as something heavy and instead meet it fully.
Yesterday, while I sat at a restaurant working on site plans and filling out county paperwork, music played softly in the background. Three different songs came on with the word joy in them. Joy to the World was one of them. After that, I began noticing joy everywhere. Written in lights. Printed on signs. Glowing quietly in windows.
Before that moment, Joy was not absent. It simply was not loud.
Later that afternoon, just before the building department closed for the holidays, they encouraged me to submit everything before the new year. New regulations are coming that will dramatically increase the cost of building. The timing mattered. We pushed through.
And we opened the building permit!
That single step means more than it might sound. It means I can apply for a temporary residence permit. It means I can now permit the tiny cabin as an as-built structure. Thankfully, I am an overbuilder by nature. The cabin exceeds California building codes. It will pass.
Progress did not arrive with fireworks. It arrived quietly.
We still cannot legally be on our land yet. So this Christmas, I am staying in an affordable motel. I am not making it home to the island. Because of my absence, their father Mountain, and his lovely new wife are able to have the kids who are available with them. Our daughter Eden and her bf Elias are hosting Christmas Day at their house.
Last year, nearly all of us were together. This year looks very different for me.
As I move toward 2026, the word I am continuing to live is compersion. The practice of allowing joy for others even when something tender is moving through my heart. Not as an idea, but as a way of being.
This season keeps reminding me that our experience is shaped not only by what happens to us, but by how we respond and what we expect. The choices we make. The meaning we assign.
Joy does not require everything to be easy. It can live alongside effort, uncertainty, distance, and change. It shows up when we stay present instead of resisting what is here.
If this season feels layered for you, it’s okay.
If it feels quieter than other years, or more complex, you are not alone.
Quick question:
How are you truly feeling this season? Truly. Maybe you are experiencing grief… or maybe true love is unfolding in your life.
Whether this is an easy Christmas or not, where is joy showing up in your life right now?
If you feel inspired to share, I would love to hear your personal experience.
Sending love from my heart to yours. Merry Christmas Eve. -Joy;)
Unscripted Joy 