#JoyMonger: Week One Recap
Turns out, spreading joy isn’t all sunshine and group hugs. Sometimes, it’s blasting music loud enough to drown out your own overthinking. It’s flopping on the couch like a Victorian maiden after one mildly stressful email. Or it’s running through the woods just to escape the notifications and the Wi-Fi dependent goblins.
This week, I dove headfirst into the #JoyMonger challenge—because the name alone is so Bougie Punk, I couldn’t resist. (Also, I was invited, and it was a FUCK YEAH from me.) Alongside a small crew, hand-picked by artist Jessica Lin.ca, I’ve been exploring what it actually means to seek out joy.
… rather than waiting for it to just happen.
Let’s recap:
Day 1: Savor
Self-care pro tip: Take baths. Because you can’t drink wine in the shower.
We started the week with the simple act of savoring. #Joymongers were instructed to spend the day slowing down and actually enjoying things. This meant not rushing through life like there’s a prize for finishing first. By slowing down (though, I knew this from years of training women in my gym) food tastes better when you stop inhaling it. Silence feels richer when you’re not just filling it with noise for the sake of it. And sometimes, the best kind of luxury is just being present. In a bath with wine present helps 😉
Day 2: Music
“Some people meditate for inner peace. I just blast music until I can’t hear my thoughts anymore.” 🎵
Music is basically time travel wrapped in sound. Some songs drag you back to being 16 and invincible, others shift your entire mood in seconds. This day was all about embracing the soundtrack of joy. It is an old favorite that sparks something deep. Or it’s a song that makes you dance like nobody’s watching (or judging.)
The family go-to, in the Audi, full volume is “We Got The Moves” by Electric Callboy.
Art by Sara Leger: Mother May I, oil on canvas
Day 3: Walk in Nature
“Go outside. Breathe. Touch a tree. Remind yourself you’re not just a Wi-Fi-dependent goblin.”
Nature is the ultimate reset button. The further you get from notifications, the closer you get to sanity. Get outside, whether it’s a hike or just standing in the sun. It pulls you out of your head and into the real world. The one where the air is fresh, the trees don’t need Wi-Fi, and nobody is emailing you . Again, about that thing that is absolutely not urgent.
Art by Sara Leger: Fun fact, mixed media on card by Sara Leger
Day 4: Move
“Dancing in the kitchen counts as cardio. So does rage cleaning.”
Back when I owned a gym, I saw it all the time—women punishing themselves thin. They chased impossible versions of perfection. Counting every calorie burned like a penance, as if existing in a human body was something to atone for. As if changing, aging, or carrying the marks of a life lived was some kind of personal failure.
I’ve seen too many women treat exercise like a debt to be repaid instead of a gift to be embraced. But we don’t move to erase ourselves—we move to take up space. To feel strong. To remind ourselves that aging isn’t a flaw; it’s a damn victory.
So today, I chose to lift some heavy things because I can. Not to shrink, but to expand. Not out of guilt, but out of joy.
It was a rebellion against the idea that our worth is tied to how small we can make ourselves.
So here I am. Still breathing, still alive—even if I’m staring down 49 with a body that sags, aches, and doesn’t always cooperate.
I’M SARA LEGER. I’M NEARLY 50 YEARS OLD. I KICK. I STRETCH. AND I KICK!!!
In Fluevog boots, even better.
Day 5: Smell
“Nothing like the scent of possibility… or freshly brewed coffee. Same thing, really.”
Smell is a time machine. One moment you’re here, the next, you’re six years old, smelling your grandmother’s cookies or your dad’s old leather jacket. Or, if you’re me, the musty scent of a closet.
Yeah, weird, I know. But as a kid, I’d hide away in my parents’ closet. I nestled with my She-Ra or My Little Ponies between the hanging clothes. In the tiny trailer closet, I created whole worlds of my own. The muffled sounds of life outside, light sneaking through the cracks—it was my escape, my fortress, my portal to anywhere.
I loved that trailer… sure the interior walls were covered in frost in the winter. The roof leaked. My room was 5 feet by 7 feet but I never felt poor.
Today, let your nose lead the way. Breathe in deeply. Find the scent that stops you in your tracks. Maybe it’s tied to a memory, or maybe it’s just a damn good smell. Either way, let it take you somewhere.
Day 6: Favorite color
I live somewhere between Wednesday Addams and Rainbow Brite.
Color isn’t just decoration—it’s a mood, a statement, a secret weapon. The right shade can make you feel like a masterpiece or a menace (both are valid). I can’t really say I have a favorite.
Some days, my color is black—classic, sharp, untouchable. Other days, it’s all the colors, because why the hell should I pick just one? I don’t do boxes, and neither does my palette.
What’s my power color most days?
Black goes with everything—especially my mood.
Day 7: New Flavor
Trying a new flavor is like a first date—exciting, a little risky, and potentially life-changing… or deeply regrettable.
I tried Geiger’s fancy sake, bracing for something that tasted like paint thinner or floor cleaner. Instead? It was… fine. Smooth. Boring, even. I didn’t choke, but I also wasn’t transformed. And that’s the thing—not everything new is a revelation. Sometimes, it’s just a reminder that you can try.
I get it—buying art can feel the same way. A customer once circled a piece for weeks, torn between excitement and hesitation. A thousand bucks is a lot. But a payment plan? That’s bite-sized. Manageable. Less like a leap, more like a step. And in the end, they took the step—and never looked back.
Some things change your world. Others remind you that you’re allowed to go for it. Either way, you won’t know until you try.
One week in, and here’s what I know: Joy isn’t something you stumble into. It’s something you choose, even when the world feels heavy. It’s savoring the moments. It’s blasting the music. It’s walking outside. It’s moving because you can. It’s making something imperfect. It’s playing for the hell of it. It’s resting so that you can realign with your vision without apology.
So tell me—which one of these resonated with you the most? And which one are you claiming for yourself this week? #JoyMonger
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Image credit: https://www.jessicalin.ca/