Small Joys in Somber Times
Another post-election debrief, sharing seven small joys, and a small announcement
Eleven days later, I’m still feeling the heaviness post-election: crestfallen, nauseous, exasperated, angry, and fatigued. As I move through my days, engulfed in a haze of emotions, I pause mid-spiral about the state of the world and take a moment to acknowledge that feeling this way means I’m alive, that I care, and that this matters.
Waking up that Wednesday morning and reading my NY Times notification brought me back to a familiar feeling of disappointment and, almost immediately, fear. Having experienced injustice and tragedy in my own life, I am hardwired to interpret this as a personal loss. My nervous system jolts into a state of hypervigilance, recognizing that this news threatens my safety, even as I read it with my head still anchored to my pillow.
In my blue bubble of the internet, I’ve seen countless post-election debriefs across Substack, podcasts, and every social media platform. Each one acknowledges the threats to come based on what’s been promised. I fear for the safety of women, LGBTQ+ individuals, people of color, children, families, and marginalized groups. I recognize that I am a hallmark of white female privilege, living in a state that protects me. Yet, I still fear for my reproductive future, my healthcare (the ACA allows me to access affordable health insurance as a self-employed cancer survivor), my ability to own a home one day, and my special needs sister’s access to necessary services through Medicare. I could list a dozen more ways the incoming President’s policies or proposed plans could negatively impact my life. But mostly, I fear for those with less privilege, fewer resources, and fewer supports to remain safe and protected.
There are so many talented, intelligent, and compassionate voices speaking about this in not-so-hushed tones. A few days after the election, I took solace in Liz Plank’s piece “My Toxic Trait is I Believed in Humanity” and appreciate her candor as it comes to acknowledging the fear that motivated everyone to vote the way they did. I’m reading Jessica Yellen’s posts at News Not Noise and taking her sage advice on the importance of coming together with community. I’m continuing to listen to Pod Save America and Trevor Noah’s podcast What Now? Even one of my non-political, feel-good podcasts, Good Influences, is speaking up on this. I’m striving to listen to and read voices that are different from my own, aiming to live outside an echo chamber of like-minded perspectives.
I have many thoughts and feelings about the election and what another Trump presidency realistically means, as well as what it represents on a broader level. I’m comfortable being outspoken about my beliefs, especially when it comes to matters of injustice. However, as I lean into discernment, I’ve found that focusing on what is within my control right now is what will best support me– and perhaps you, too. Today, that looks like sharing a few small joys I’ve experienced during these somber times.
In moments of heaviness and uncertainty, joy can feel inaccessible or even inappropriate. As Maya Angelou said, “We need joy as we need air.” It is vital to our being. In these seasons, I find that joy does not present itself; it must be conjured, drawn from some hopeful cavern within. Joy doesn’t need to be grand—a parade or a celebration. It can be the small snippets of our day that bring comfort, pleasure, or happiness. We can collect these tiny, joyful moments and hold onto them, knowing they are glimmers of light in the darkness.
“We need joy as we need air. We need love as we need water. We need each other as we need the earth we share.”
– Maya Angelou
Small Joys in Somber Times
Fresh Sourdough
I woke up early last Sunday and waited in line for two hot loaves of sourdough and a pair of chocolate chip cookies from my local bread baker at their new flagship location. There’s unexpected joy in waiting outside on a chilly November morning, watching my breath hit the air with each exhale, and making a mental checklist of what to order once it’s my turn. The loaves, made simply of flour, salt, and water, are nothing short of a miracle—crusty on the outside, pillowy soft on the inside, with air pockets that tell the story of the fermented dough they came from. It’s the only time I’m willing to break my gluten-free status, topping a thick slice with ripe avocado, a squeeze of lime, spices, and red chili flakes. Perfection.
Morning Reading in Bed
My restless fingers often reach for my phone first thing in the morning, scrolling for a faulty sense of dopamine. Lately, I’m trying to break this habit, giving myself thirty minutes of phone-free time and reading a book instead. It’s a needed pause before diving into my day’s inevitable to-do list. I’m embracing this cozy morning ritual, finding joy in being transported into a fictional world before stepping into my real one.
A Bowl of Homemade Goodness – Baked Butternut Squash Salad by Munching with Mariyah
I posted on my Instagram stories this week that I felt proud of myself for making one of the many recipes I save each week. I often forget how much I savor this time of year, when the seasonal vegetables of autumn are plentiful and recipes bring a warmth that offsets the chill. This past week, I made this Baked Butternut Squash Salad and was pleasantly surprised at how quickly it came together for a weekday lunch. Just roast some veggies, cook some quinoa on the stove, and mix a delicious maple mustard dressing—a five-star meal emerges.


Puppy Playdates
At this point, my dog Ruby is practically my entire personality, so of course, she has her own social calendar. Last weekend, she had not one but two playdates with my cousins’ dogs and was thrilled to be reunited with her summer besties. Watching them play and run free with reckless abandon is pure joy. Depending on her playmates, Ruby is either involved in an endless game of “chase” or barking on the sidelines, timidly refereeing other dogs’ roughhousing. It’s a constant source of entertainment and happiness.
Bundled-Up Sunset Walks
It’s a bit remiss that the United States holds presidential elections the same week as daylight saving time. It’s unsettling how suddenly it becomes pitch dark by 5 p.m., and each year, the darkness feels more jarring. It does give me a good excuse to block off my work calendar around 4 p.m. to get outside for a final walk, layered in a parka and fleece-lined hat. I walk a mile or so, catching the sunset over the river and embracing the stillness of the moment.
Blueberry Crumble Cheesecake
Cake is an obvious source of joy. If there’s cake, there’s joy. A month ago, one of my favorite vegan restaurants, Seed to Sprout, announced they needed recipe testers for their upcoming cookbook, so I volunteered. I was thrilled to see an email asking me to test their raw vegan Blueberry Crumble Cheesecake recipe. This was something I would easily pay $7 a slice for at the restaurant, so getting the recipe to make it at home felt like a small lottery win. With bulk Costco cashews already in my cabinet and frozen blueberries in my freezer, I had everything needed to whip up this no-bake cheesecake. I let it set overnight and sliced into it on Friday morning, sharing slices with friends and family. Spreading the joy of cake.
Group Chats That Get It
The day after the election, I sent texts to close friends, checking in. Knowing we were all processing similar emotions in our own ways. We had lived through this before as college juniors, feeling the same disbelief then as we do now. We’re no longer college students living on the same campus but are now spread across states, towns, and time zones, making maintaining our connections more effortful. Despite our distance, we can still rely on one another for support, and at the very least, commiseration.
As I look ahead to the uncertain years, I know a few things for sure: I’ll continue prioritizing friendships & connections, lean into community, and strive to do good in all the ways I know how.
If you’ve read this far, thank you. I know that election debriefs can be overwhelming, and it’s understandable to need a break from reality. Still, I find it important to share my experience, hoping it brings perspective to those with different views and, most importantly, makes others feel less alone.
To my most loyal readers, I have a small announcement! As I continue writing Worrying Well here on Substack, I’ll be shifting the newsletter slightly to include more posts focused on practical, evidence-based wellness—strategies to help you worry yourself well. Starting next week, I’ll be launching a new series that provides actionable advice to help quiet your worries and focus on what truly benefits your well-being. On alternating weeks, I’ll continue sharing personal reflections and insights on what I’ve been worrying well about.
May you find the joy you’re looking for today and carry that through with you this week.
xoxo
Nicole
Thank you Nicole. This is the perfect reminder to redirect our focus on the things we can control and finding the small joys in life.