What Is Your Joy Jam? Why Joy Is Fuel for Creative Work
What Is Your Joy Jam? Why Joy Is Fuel for Creative Work
I was recently talking with a colleague who sounded completely depleted. His spring break had not been a break at all. He had not stepped away from his computer since January, and the fatigue was evident in his voice. The pace had been relentless, and the constant hum of responsibility had left him with very little space to breathe.
As we talked, I found myself asking him whether he could carve out even five minutes a day to do something that genuinely brings him joy. Not something productive. Not something strategic. Just something restorative. I have come to believe that when we are exhausted, we do not necessarily need a complete overhaul of our lives. Sometimes we need a small, consistent reminder of what makes us feel alive.
As I offered the suggestion, I realized I have my own ritual. When I need to reset, I turn on 90s music and have a solo dance party in my kitchen. There is no audience and no performance involved. It is simply movement, music, and the freedom to be unselfconscious. That is my jam. And in the middle of our conversation, a phrase surfaced almost instinctively: Joy Jam.
In everyday language, we often use the word “jam” to describe something we love. A favorite song is our jam. An activity that energizes us is our jam. It is shorthand for something that feels aligned with who we are. But I began to wonder what might happen if we applied that idea more intentionally to joy. What if each of us identified a Joy Jam, something so reliably uplifting that it can shift our emotional state almost immediately?
When I asked my colleague what his Joy Jam might be, he paused and thought for a moment before responding. He said that going out into nature without any devices and having nowhere to be was what restored him most. As he described it, I could hear the change in his voice. There was a softness that had not been there before. Simply naming it seemed to reconnect him to something essential.
Over the next week, I found myself asking friends and colleagues the same question. The responses were varied and personal, yet they shared a common thread of immediacy. People did not describe grand vacations or distant goals. They described small, tangible experiences that grounded them. As I reflected on my own Joy Jams, I began making a list. Watching my daughter perform and seeing her fully immersed in her element always fills me with happiness. Sitting in a bookstore, surrounded by the quiet possibility of what I might discover next, brings a sense of spaciousness and anticipation. Drinking a freshly brewed cup of coffee while getting lost in a good book feels like a small act of restoration. Learning something new that stretches my thinking reconnects me to the curiosity that fuels my work.
None of these moments requires elaborate planning. They are accessible and repeatable. More importantly, they restore energy rather than deplete it.
This reflection has also deepened my thinking about creativity. In the research on creativity, positive emotion is closely linked to cognitive flexibility and openness to new ideas. When we experience joy, even briefly, our thinking tends to expand. We become more willing to explore, more resilient in the face of obstacles, and more capable of seeing alternatives. Joy does not eliminate stress, but it can recalibrate our relationship to it.
And yet, in academic and professional spaces, joy is often treated as secondary. We prioritize productivity, efficiency, and output, sometimes at the expense of well-being. We tell ourselves that joy will come later, once the deadlines are met and the work is finished. But what if joy is not merely a reward at the end of hard work? What if it is fuel for sustaining that work in the first place?
This question feels especially relevant in education. When was the last time we asked students what brings them joy, not as a career aspiration or extracurricular activity, but as a daily practice? Imagine beginning a semester by inviting students to identify their Joy Jam and reflect on how they might integrate small moments of it into their routines. Imagine encouraging them to notice what restores them during particularly demanding periods. If creativity requires energy, engagement, and openness, then joy is not peripheral to learning. It is the foundation.
So I find myself returning to the same question I have been asking others: What is your Joy Jam? And how might you create just a little more space for it in your daily life?
Dr. Cyndi Burnett is the Director of Possibilities for Creativity and Education. Like her creativity-focused curriculum for students and teachers, Cyndi embraces the creative lifestyle that she teaches. You will often find her trying on new ideas, exploring resources to stretch her thinking, and being an advocate for playfulness and humor. Although she loves to research and write about creativity, Cyndi is a firm believer in field service. She has 20 years of teaching experience as an academic at the International Center for Studies in Creativity at SUNY Buffalo State where she instructed classes in creative-thinking and creative problem-solving.
Cyndi is the co-author of the books Infusing Creative Thinking into Higher Education, Weaving Creativity into Every Strand of Your Curriculum, 20 Lessons for Weaving Creativity into your Curriculum, and My Sandwich Is a Spaceship: Creative Thinking for Parents and Young Children.
