A Cup of Joy

“How can I be happy?”

A teenage piano student of mine asked this question abruptly in the middle of a lesson. I gazed at the black and white piano keys for a moment, surprised by such a sudden question in the midst of our melodic discussion about Beethoven. Then I slowly came back to the moment.

With a gentle smile, I asked her, “Do you know what makes you happy?”

She said she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t certain if that feeling of happiness was something she could truly grasp or articulate. Then she added, “I think I would like my friends to like me. That would make me happy.”

I replied, “I don’t think you can place the responsibility for your own happiness on others. It’s up to you. It’s your choice—not something determined by someone else.”

I know how frustrating it might be for teenagers these days to navigate their own small circle of the world, and the extreme difficulties that can come with it. Even as I said those words to her, I lost my footing for a moment and felt a deep sadness, knowing I couldn’t help her more. Life as a teenager is never easy.

A few hours before that conversation, I had been having a rough day. Not because anything particularly difficult had happened that I could point to, but it was just one of those days that felt a bit heavier than usual. As I’ve grown older, I think I’ve gotten better at noticing those subtle inner shifts—and responding to them with kindness. (There’s one benefit of getting older!) That afternoon, I found myself wishing for a break. I wasn’t sure where—maybe just to escape into the universe (but with a piano tagging along, of course).

Then it hit me—I could finally articulate the thirst I was feeling. I was frustrated because I hadn’t had space in recent days to simply let my inner child play, to let the creative drive run free. I’d somehow gotten swept into a whirlwind of to-do lists, and in the process, I felt I’d lost touch with my creative self. For me, that’s one of the key elements of happiness.

I’ve always loved this quote by Elizabeth Gilbert:

“I told the universe (and anyone who would listen) that I was committed to living a creative life not in order to save the world, not as an act of protest, not to become famous, not to gain entrance to the canon, not to challenge the system, not to show the bastards, not to prove to my family that I was worthy, not as a form of deep therapeutic emotional catharsis … but simply because I liked it.”

That reminded me of what was missing from my happiness puzzle this week: uninterrupted time and space to create—to make music, to make mistakes, to be fully present with myself.

But that wasn’t exactly the answer I gave my student. Instead, I suggested she start by finding one small joy in her day. Just one. That could be the first step. Bring back a flavor of life little by little, and notice the tiny, joyful moments: a perfect cup of coffee, the unexpected aroma of flowers along the sidewalk, a warm ray of spring sunshine, a puppy licking your hand—even if it’s a stranger’s dog—a moment to read your favorite book, a comforting night routine, and so on.

I told her that, to me, happiness isn’t some grand gesture or monumental event. It’s a collection of little moments. Moments I choose to recognize and claim as my own happiness. I’m not sure if I made any sense to her, but in trying to help her find her happiness, I found a little bit of mine again, too.

Someone once said, “When you’re running out of tools to solve your own problem, try helping someone else with theirs. Your own challenge may disappear in the process.”

The quest for happiness is elusive. One moment we have it; the next, we lose our balance. It’s a delicate dance. But I believe we can all try to hold onto those daily joys a little longer, with a bit more intention and tenderness.

What made you happy this week? I’d love to hear.

Have a wonderful week!

💕Jeeyoon