How Something I Learned in Acupuncture School 30 Years Ago Can Turn the Doldrums into Delight
By Juniper Gwin
I am sitting here in my bed, as I have been for two whole weeks, recovering from surgery. The view I have from here is my overly cluttered dresser, a disorganized bookshelf, and a peek into my closet with clothes I could probably stand to donate half of. I am confined to using a walker, so not only is that seriously disturbing my sense of self, but it means I can't move things around. I can only observe the mess I've created; I can't do anything about it. Combined with unpredictable pain, it is a recipe for a downward spiral.
When you are confined to your own bed, you are also confined to your own thoughts and perspectives. It has the potential to give you the doldrums — or it can be a doorway, if you let it be. Not a grand one, just a small, ordinary door, hiding in plain sight, that opens onto delight.
Something I learned in acupuncture school almost 30 years ago came to mind a couple of days ago, a practice that, it turns out, is really just a doorway to delight in disguise. My teacher described it as the most advanced Taoist meditation there is… and yet the simplest. Back then, I perceived it as my ticket to enlightenment. Now I find it's just the tool we all need to bring our hearts back to a place of ease. And it feels helpful during moments like this one, flat on my back, watching a birdfeeder my husband set up outside my window to keep me entertained.
It's called the Inner Smile meditation, and because of my particular situation, I added a second step that profoundly shifted how I felt.
Step one: Get into a comfortable seated position. Close your eyes gently. Conjure a feeling of contentment, perhaps the way someone once looked at you lovingly, or a time you were doing something you loved. And if you are having a hard time feeling it, don’t give up. Stay with it patiently and continue to allow yourself to release held tension. Then try again. Feel that smiling sensation sparkling in your eyes. Allow it to slowly spread anywhere in your body it wants to. Sit in that sensation, breathing, relaxed. Enjoy.
Step two:Now open your eyes and see where your gaze falls. Notice any judgment that comes up upon registering what you are seeing. If you're inside your home, you might see unfinished tasks. Notice your initial response, then, keeping your gaze on that same spot, find something about what you're seeing to appreciate. Smile about it to yourself. Then move on, floating your gaze to the next thing.
What I discovered was that I was fairly constantly unconsciously judging ordinary things around me, even my loved ones, leading to a subtle discontent. And then, thankfully, I remembered that a simple reframe of the narrative, it turns out, can be a doorway to a fresh perspective. Maybe even a feeling of delight. Looking up at the shelves in my closet, piled high with boxes, I shifted my self-shaming story, "Why do you have to hold on to all of that stuff you don't even need?" into: "I am blessed to have the option to keep things from my past to pass along to my grandkids. I have shelter and the means to protect them from the elements."
The reframe doesn't need to be that long or involved, just enough to feel the shift inside. That shift is delight, arriving exactly where you didn't expect to find it: in a messy closet, in a body that can't move the way it wants to.
What does the word delight bring to mind for you? Its definition is “feeling great pleasure or joy.” It might feel like a foreign concept, like maybe it only belongs in a colorized movie from the 50’s where the lovebirds are gliding across the dance floor to a live orchestra.I believe that delight is a doorway back to our humanity. Are we losing track of how to find that door in our consumer-focused culture? We are busy, we are optimizing, and delight, the small unearned kind that used to arrive on its own, has slipped away into a rarity. We've traded it for productivity and call the trade progress. But what if delight isn't a luxury, but a nutrient? If that’s the case, most of us are running low.
There's actually a name for part of why this reframe works so well when put into daily practice: the Reticular Activating System. This is the part of your brain that filters information from your environment and decides what reaches your conscious awareness. It's one reason gratitude practices can be effective in helping people get through hard times. When you start your day noticing what you're thankful for, you've already given your brain something to go looking for. You've told it: delight is worth finding here. And it will start finding it everywhere. Don’t get me wrong. I am all about feeling all the feels. I am not condoning toxic positivity. But I do encourage you to pay attention to those quiet narratives playing in the background of your mind. See what happens when you shift what your brain is looking for.
Research shows that positive emotional states like gratitude and joy can support immune function — improving antibody response, balancing stress hormones, and lowering inflammation. The reverse is true too. So this isn't just a mood shift, it's medicine, in its own quiet way. Delight, it turns out, isn't only good for the soul, it’s good for the body.
I'm still here, in this same bed, with the same cluttered closet. But it doesn't feel like the same room anymore. And my capacity for feeling hope as expanded as well. It’s palpable. I found a doorway I didn't know was there- the doorway to delight.