Joy counts.

There are rules we make up for ourselves. The fancy phrase for them is “limiting beliefs”. We often don’t speak them, but I know you have them, too.

One of mine is : Joy doesn’t count.

If something comes easy, if it’s joyful, it doesn’t count.

So that business I’ve built part-time, in my slippers between loads of laundry while raising two little kids, the one sneaking up on six figures? The one that’s fuelled by customers who’ve become family? The one thats come easy?

Doesn’t count.

I didn’t do it on my own. There was no grand plan or goal setting. No mind-numbing commute or dread of Monday mornings. I didn’t grind or push or struggle to grow. There was no sobbing in my Starbucks on Robson Street in the middle of the workday.

The work is meaningful. And enjoyable.

Obviously, doesn’t count.

What counts is grind and sacrifice and late nights and doing it all on my own and contorting myself into roles that fit my true self about as well as my pre-baby jeans.

What if the thing we’re chasing is actually a mirage? What if we turned around to realize that that thing we want so badly, it’s right behind us, has been all along?

Decide today that joy counts. Move mountains, singing as you go.