The First Taste of Joy in Doing This

There’s this moment when the thing you’re "kind of into" transforms into the thing that lights you up. It sneaks up on you when you’re not trying, like finding a five-dollar bill in your jacket or unlocking a hidden level in an old video game. For me, it happened in my parents’ café on a rainy Vancouver afternoon, with the smell of espresso in the air and a certain customer’s offhand comment that changed everything.

Let me set the scene: I was twenty, back from university on a break, and helping out at my parents’ café. “Helping out” mostly meant wiping counters while eavesdropping on conversations about yoga, real estate, and the never-ending rain. Classic Kitsilano. It was during this backdrop of steamed milk and mellow acoustic playlists that I discovered the first spark of joy in a then-unexpected passion—storytelling. Specifically, capturing the beauty of ordinary moments, something I now get to do for a living.

And while this article isn’t about my exact career path (though we love a good origin story), it is about how finding joy sneaks up on you at the most mundane and surprising times. And—more importantly—how you can embrace those moments when they bubble up like a perfect latte foam.

The Rainy Afternoon That Changed Everything

A regular at my parents’ café—a guy in his sixties named Tom—was chatting away as I cleared plates. Tom had this way of making people tell him their entire life stories, probably because he always looked like he had all the time in the world to listen. That day, as I was folding napkins, he turned to me, out of the blue, and said:

“You ever notice how everyone’s a little performative in a café? Watch closely—most people are here because they don’t want to be alone at home."

Boom. My brain popped like perfectly timed poetry. Of course! Cafés—especially ones like my parents’, where kombucha on tap sits casually next to bacon-and-egg muffins—were safe spaces for people testing out bits of their personality on strangers. It reminded me of dating, or that first riff of small talk with someone you're not sure about yet. Aren't we all, to varying degrees, just trying to be noticed?

That one comment stayed with me long after Tom had wandered off to refill his French press. I grabbed a notebook and started scribbling, trying to capture all the half-laughed conversations and lingering glances I’d seen wafting through our café like the scent of matcha scones. I didn’t know it then, but what I was doing—writing down human moments, spinning micro-stories from passing interactions—was the first time I felt joy in being a storyteller.

Finding the Joy (Spoiler: It’s Messy at First)

Here’s the thing about joy: It rarely screams "I’m here!" like the climax in a rom-com. Instead, it tiptoes in, like a friend you weren’t sure you’d click with, and grows louder over time. That day in the café, I didn’t dust off my hands and say, “Welp, time to write a book!” I just felt curious, strangely calm, and more excited than usual about playing with words—the same way you might feel after a first date with someone who effortlessly gets your jokes about 90s sitcoms.

I didn’t need the validation of immediately being "good" at storytelling—it was much more about soaking in the process. Here’s what I learned about chasing something that brings joy, even when you’re not sure where it’s leading:

  1. Start Small and Stay Curious
    Moments of joy don’t usually come with a full-blown plan attached. While jotting notes in that café, I didn’t think about where it all might lead. And that’s the beauty of it—you don’t have to know. Just follow your curiosity like it’s a breadcrumb trail.

  2. Pay Attention to Your Environment
    Sometimes, the spark for passion comes from where you already are: the job you think is “just a job,” the hobby you casually do on weekends, or even your morning coffee spot (shoutout to you, Tom). The trick is slowing down enough to let yourself notice it.

  3. Let Yourself Flirt with Joy
    Finding joy in something is like dating—don’t pressure yourself to go all-in right away. Write, paint, bake, dance, whatever—just play. You don’t need to turn it into a lifelong commitment unless you want to.

What Spill-Proof Cups Taught Me About Love

You might be wondering what all this has to do with relationships (this is a dating and relationships site, after all). But isn’t finding joy in a passion kind of like the beginning of a great romance? Think about it:

  • There’s a spark of attraction. In love, it’s that fluttery pang when someone remembers your favorite band. In creativity, it’s the itching curiosity you just have to scratch.
  • It takes time to deepen. Like any good relationship, passions grow through effort, attention, and yes—even a few spills. (Try dumping a cappuccino into your journal and staying zen about it.)
  • Sometimes, passion surprises you. The same way “opposites attract” can apply to meeting a person who challenges you, joy often shows up in places you least expect.

And let’s be real—being passionate about something makes you a better partner. When you have your own well of happiness to draw from, it’s easier to show up for others. It’s honestly a bit of a cliché now, but it’s true: you can’t pour from an empty cup. Unless, of course, it’s one of those compostable café ones, but those tend to leak.

Making Space for Joy in Your Life

If you’re thinking, “Okay, cool story, Willow, but what does this mean for me?” here’s my challenge: think about the last time you felt joy doing anything—no matter how inconsequential it seemed at the time. Was it when you tried that weird salsa class with your roommates? Or when you hit “Shuffle” on Spotify and rediscovered all the bangers from high school? Even catching yourself grinning at a goofy TikTok counts.

Once you find that flicker, give it room to grow. It doesn’t even matter if it’s traditionally “productive” by your Instagram standards. Write bad poetry, grow plants that only kind of live, record songs no one will ever hear. Anything. Joy doesn’t have to be a subplot to someone else’s expectations—it’s purely, beautifully yours.

The Happily (Ever-Evolving) After

Years after that rainy afternoon in Kits, I realize that what I felt wasn’t just about storytelling. It was about the bigger discovery: life is full of surprising moments that invite us to lean in—so why not accept the invitation? Sure, my path led me to writing full-time, but if I hadn’t been willing to observe and play, who knows? I might’ve missed it entirely.

And that’s my hope for you. Keep looking for those rainy afternoons—and more importantly, let them change you. Because, whether it’s flirting with someone new or discovering your love for paddleboarding on a Tofino beach at sunset, joy is inevitable if you make the space to notice it. And once you’ve felt it, you’ll never stop chasing the way it makes you feel.

And isn’t that the point of it all? From flirting to familiarity, it’s all about the feeling—the spark—and seeing where it takes you.