Where are you finding joy?

[Oops - I goofed and am posting again! There was a Substack hiccup.]

I’m just past the midpoint of my term and really feeling like I’m in the thick of it. Work is unending, and there’s a lot to juggle. I spend more time than I’d like keeping up with the news and worrying — worrying about my future, my friends and family, the future of…really, everything. Sometimes I catch myself spiraling in those thoughts, frustrated that this is our reality, angry for reasons that feel both personal and collective.

So, I’m making a conscious effort to seek out joy. To notice what gives me energy rather than drains it. To remind myself, intentionally and often, of what and whom I’m grateful for. If you’re feeling something similar, I hope you’ll take a moment to identify the things that bring you joy, however small or fleeting they might be. I’ll share some of mine below and would love to hear some of yours, too.

I’ve written before about why getting a dog during grad school might be the best decision you can make. That still feels true. I’m just a better version of myself when I have a dog in my life. Whenever I feel like shrinking my world, Fran reminds me that hers is only as big as I make it. So, we step outside. We explore. We find joy in routine and calm in the chaos. It’s the most grounding kind of partnership I know.

Given how much coffee I drink, I’m reluctant to splurge on high-end beans — it would quickly become an expensive habit. Still, every so often, I let myself enjoy a really good cup. This morning (Sunday), Fran and I walked to our local coffee shop and shared a slice of pumpkin bread while I indulged in a tasty cup of coffee. And when there’s a good sale, I order from a roaster in Florida that a former member of the #100DaysOfWriting community introduced me to (thank you, Kat!). Small indulgences can feel like little acts of care and serve as quiet reminders that everyday routines can still feel special.

There’s no shortage of work to be done, and activism can take many forms. One that feels right for me is supporting the great work being done by others. For instance, I’m proud to contribute to the Skype a Scientist initiative and deeply appreciate the work of its director, Dr. Sarah McAnulty, who continues to make science accessible to as many children (and adults) as possible. I also admire scholars like Dr. Lisa Fazio and her colleagues, who are drawing attention to federal funding challenges and communicating their research in ways that inform and empower the public.

Closer to home, I’m inspired by organizations on Long Island like ERASE Racism, with whom I had the privilege of collaborating this past summer. Together, we connected summer interns with scholars committed to redressing racial and economic inequities through their work. I left that experience particularly grateful and hopeful after hearing from so many high school students already leading change in their own communities. Their insight and commitment remind me that progress often starts locally and grows through collaboration.

I derive a great deal of joy from mentoring students who are eager to pursue doctoral studies. Each cycle, I work with a small group of prospective students to help them strategize, prepare materials, practice for interviews, and even negotiate better offers. This work feels like an extension of my broader commitment to demystifying the hidden curriculum of academia, which includes sharing what I’ve learned so others can navigate these processes with greater clarity and more confidence.

Even amid continued uncertainty in higher education, I’m heartened that students are still reaching out. Just this past week, I met with one applicant to offer a final round of feedback on his statement, and in the coming days, I’ll be mailing at least 10 more copies of A Field Guide to Grad School to prospective and current PhD students across the U.S. It’s a small gesture, but one that reflects how much I believe in paying forward the mentorship and transparency that shaped my own path.

I encourage others to look for their own ways (big or small) to support those entering our fields. Especially now, those acts of guidance and generosity matter more than ever.

On Sundays, I take a tap class for adults. I’ve been going for a few years now, and in my first year, I even joined the end-of-year recital, which was a major step outside my comfort zone. Being on stage, dancing, and wearing a sequined top was…a lot. I’m grateful there isn’t much photographic evidence!

Most weeks, I’m in class with a group of older women. Over time, it’s been lovely to see familiar faces and to learn small details about their lives. Coincidentally, one of the younger dancers is a business major at Stony Brook. We’ve never crossed paths on campus (our schedules are completely opposite every term somehow, which we laugh about) but it feels special to see her in that space, outside the usual roles of student and professor.

I’ve also come to appreciate what this class represents. For some, it’s nostalgia — a chance to revisit something they loved in childhood. For others, it’s discovery, a new way to move through the world. Maybe I’m projecting, but I see courage in every step. Some dancers avoid the front row and are hesitant to face the mirror, and I suppose that reflects real life. Still, week after week, they show up, move, and find joy. And that, to me, is the most inspiring part.

This past summer, I started walking…really walking. In Chicago, where I was living for the summer, I spent hours exploring different neighborhoods and walking on the treadmill in my building’s gym. I’ve kept up the habit since, finding it unexpectedly therapeutic.

When I walk outside, I notice things I might otherwise miss while driving, including street art, a forgotten sign on a building, the imprint of a message someone once pressed into wet concrete, people congregating in parks to celebrate some milestone, and children asking big questions of their adults. On the treadmill, the scenery shifts inward. I get lost in thought, revisiting paths not taken (like what if I had gone to law school?) or puzzling over research questions and insights (like children’s early appreciation for inconspicuous consumption cues).

More recently, I took my semiannual (very) long walk with my friend Jasmine. This time, we traced the eastern edge of Manhattan (I wrote a bit about it on LinkedIn). Whether I’m walking with friends, with Fran (who insists we stop to sniff everything), or alone, these walks bring me genuine joy. They remind me to slow down, to notice, and to appreciate living in any particular moment.

I love snacks. I love all kinds of snacks. And snacks bring me joy. Let me tell you what some of my favorite snacks are right now:

• Hardboiled eggs drizzled with mustard and pepper

• Greek yogurt with blueberry jam

• Trader Joe’s Baked Cheese Crunchies (healthier Cheetos?)

• Mini peppers with hummus

• Peanut butter crackers

So, what gives you joy?

Until next time!

How to reach me: You are always welcome to email me (letstalkgradschool@gmail.com). You can also find me on LinkedIn and Bluesky.

Want to support my #hiddencurriculum efforts? Consider “buying me a coffee” via Ko-fi. All funds will be put back into Marginalia (formerly Let’s Talk Grad School) initiatives (i.e., webinars, buying/mailing books, etc.). Learn more about my efforts here.

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Wishing you all the best!

Margaret