Your Weekly Spark: What If the Point Is Joy? A Birthday Reflection

Lately, I’ve found myself captivated by Alysa Liu, the U.S. Olympic gold medal figure skater. For me, it’s not about her athleticism, although she is incredibly talented. It’s not about her technical precision or creative choreography, although both were beautiful to watch. It’s not just about her medals or rankings.

It’s about the journey that got her to gold. She skated for the pure joy of it.

There is something unmistakable about her. She doesn’t appear burdened by anyone else’s expectations or opinions. She isn’t performing to prove something. She looks alive. Free. Lit from within. As if the ice is simply the place where her joy gets to fully express itself.

And I found myself reaffirming what I already feel deep in my soul:
Isn’t that what life is really about?

Today is my birthday. It’s a big one, with big questions and big feelings. And that question feels less philosophical and more personal.

When I look at my own life right now, I see that I am choosing joy. And yet, I have to admit, I sometimes feel a twinge of guilt about what I’m not doing to support a more traditional, predictable, or socially acceptable lifestyle.

Instead of doing things that might put more money in my bank account, I’ve been immersing myself in a major RV renovation project. It’s way outside my comfort zone. It’s challenged me physically. It’s consumed time. It’s cost money that many would say should stay safely invested.

And it has been pure joy.

It’s not just an RV renovation. It’s eliminating what doesn’t inspire me and slowly replacing it, step by step,  with colors, curtains, linens, and decorative details that make me feel comfortable, cozy, and alive. It’s creating a magical and inspirational space where I can write, work, play, rest, and live freely and lit up from within.

I found a magical coverlet in a department store hidden beneath a pile of comforters that felt like a treasure hunt victory. To make it even more magical, it was marked down to just 44.99 (from 149.99) and I had a gift card left over from Christmas that still had 42.00 on it! In another store, I stumbled upon the perfect shower curtain in the same gauzy fabric of the coverlet. It was in a place in the store it shouldn’t have been, as if it was waiting for me. And it was on clearance, of course. I'm adding a lamp from one of my guest rooms at Ripple, a cherished painting an artist friend of mine created out of a scene she captured on the way to our favorite ski mountain, and a couple of other touches that warm my heart.  My RV bedroom is shaping up to be my sanctuary.

I’m one coat of paint away from cleaning up the construction zone and pulling all the pieces together ... just in time to begin planning my spring adventure.

In the middle of the renovation are the curl-up moments with my cats, the messy middle of Pinterest analytics, preparing for my next webinar and the program I'm offering in April. On top of that is taking care of my dad and managing the ordinary tasks that make up a life ... qll woven together with the righteous fire of my “so done with this” stance against the cruelty of the current administration.

In the middle of it all, I feel something.

I feel joy.

Not the loud, performative kind.
But the quiet, intentional, chosen kind.

Joy in the renovation.
Joy in imagining life on the road.
Joy in time with my dad.
Joy in aligned connection.
Joy in helping other women rediscover their magic.
Joy in purpose.
Joy in freedom.
Joy in the sacredness of ordinary moments.

I’ve been skating for joy on my own kind of ice. Even in the struggle. Even in the heaviness. Even in the uncertainty.

There are still financial pressures. There is still political anger. There is still physical and emotional fatigue some days. There are still unanswered questions about what comes next. But underneath it all, there is something steady.

A decision.

This next year, and most likely all the years I have left, will not be about proving, chasing, or performing.
It will be about joy. It will be about finding magic and purpose in each moment, no matter what is happening around me. It will be about choosing alignment over approval. Presence over panic. Response over reaction. Freedom over fear.

Watching Alysa skate reminded me that excellence and joy are not opposites. In fact, joy may be the very thing that unlocks excellence. What if the point isn’t to win? What if the point is to feel alive while you’re doing it? What if legacy is not built from grinding but from devotion to what lights you up?

On this birthday, I’m not asking, “How much did I accomplish?”
I’m asking:
Did I pursue joy?
Did I honor what feels magical?
Did I build a life aligned with the essence of who I am?
Because in the end, medals fade. Numbers fluctuate. Noise shifts.
But the way you feel while you’re living your life?
That’s everything.

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This is the year I choose joy on purpose.
In the RV.
In the writing.
In the resistance.
In the quiet mornings.
In the imperfect middle.

This is the year I skate on my own kind of ice, simply for the love of it.
The truth is, I think that’s what life has been inviting me to do all along.

Happy birthday to me. And maybe … to the next version of you too!

If this reflection stirred something in you, take five quiet minutes and answer this question honestly:
If the point were joy … what would change?

And if you need help calming the noise long enough to hear your own answer, you can download my free Heart Breathing reset here.