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“In our lives, change is unavoidable, loss is unavoidable. In the adaptability and ease with which we experience change, lies our happiness and freedom.”

—Buddha

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Just as I was thinking about what projects and goals I want to take on next, I heard about Tiny Experiments: How to Live Freely in a Goal-Obsessed World by Anne-Laure Le Cunff. Described as “the antidote to obsessing over goals,” the book intrigued me, so I checked it out from my library. 

I’ve become frustrated with my method of setting goals—I set them, work on them for a while, get distracted by something new (or a crisis) and too often I don’t find the process to be enjoyable or even effective. Couple that with all the life changes I’ve experienced in the last few years, and I feel somewhat adrift. What do I even want to do anymore? How do I figure that out?

Tiny Experiments has some ideas.

A different way to look at goals

Le Cunff is a neuroscientist, entrepreneur, and the creator of the Ness Labs newsletter. Tiny Experiments is described as a reframing of the common approach to setting goals, as well as a guide to help you: 

Instead of randomly choosing a goal to pursue, or going after what other people want you to do, Le Cunff describes a whole process that leads up to creating your tiny experiment. She first encourages readers to start by looking at their lives the way an anthropologist would. She writes, “There is no need for fancy tools or scientific equipment. Simply create a new note on your phone so you can jot down thoughts as you go about your day. Call it ‘Field Notes’ or another title that feels playful or meaningful. Then, whenever something crosses your mind, write a time stamp and a few words.”

You might record insights (moments of curiosity, random thoughts, new ideas, questions), energy (shifts throughout the day, what gives you energy or drains it), mood (emotions before and after an experience), encounters (social interactions and connections, and any insights or feelings that come from them). From these observations, you can learn what brings you joy, what drains you, what you want more of, what you want less of. You may see patterns, persistent challenges, points of curiosity.

Once you’ve made your observations, you might then ask a question. Here’s an example from the book: 

Observation: I feel anxious in the morning.

Follow up your observation with a question: How can I feel more grounded before going to work?

Next comes your hypothesis: Meditation might help regulate my emotions.

From there, design a tiny experiment, which begins with what Ness calls a pact: “I will [action] for [duration].” Durations can vary, with some being as short as 10 days, to others lasting three months or more. A pact should be purposeful, actionable, continuous, and trackable: “I will use my meditation app for five minutes before I go to work for the next 10 days.”

This approach focuses on outputs, something you have control over, rather than outcomes, which you likely do not.

If you’re not sure what your pact should be, think tiny. What would you be able to do on your worst day?

You can choose any number of tiny experiments, becoming the scientist of your own life. 

Favorite concepts

There’s a lot of thought-provoking information in Tiny Experiments, starting with the idea of living experimentally. Other topics I found especially interesting include procrastination and what it can teach you, and how thinking about thinking (metacognition) can improve both your experimental choices and understanding of the results.

Confession: I have yet to finalize any goals for the year, or even for the next few months. However, I am likely to commit to a few tiny experiments—living with curiosity and a spirit of experimentation.

I found Tiny Experiments both philosophical and practical, and I’m still thinking about what I read. If you’re interested in living a full life, but you’re turned off by the culture of bigger, better, more and constant striving, you might find Le Cunff’s approach helpful and more appealing.

What tiny experiments are calling to you?

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Adulting is hard.

Work is never-ending, bills need to be paid every month, the news constantly bombards us with distressing images, and what is that new pain in your knee?

While large-scale adventures such as going on a trip or achieving a major goal can boost happiness, these big things don’t come around as often as our daily, weekly, or monthly practices and experiences. That’s why in 2026 I’m going to lean hard on ordinary joys.

This applies to both things I do for fun and things I need to do to contribute to my household and keep our lives running. If I have to do it anyway, why not make it more fun?

• Find the perfect cup for my coffee or tea.
• When I indulge in the treat of my choice, choose something really good rather than mindlessly eating straight from the container.
• Write with the perfect pen on the perfect piece of paper.
• Scent my home with an essential oil diffuser, candle, or room spray.
• Make reading or watching a movie or TV show an event—curl up under a cozy throw, pop some popcorn, put away my phone and concentrate on one thing at a time.

In other words, putting a bit more thought and effort into the ordinary raises a simple pleasure to another level. As Melissa of Julia’s Bookbag Substack wrote, “if you can find a petite joy of some kind…LEAN INTO IT.” 

Ordinary joys

Here are five ordinary joys I’m leaning into this year:

The happiness jar. This was a fun way to focus on and record happy little things as well as what I’m grateful for, so I’m resurrecting the practice. 

Organizing my home. We’ve lived here for a year, so now I have a better idea of how this house functions. I’m reevaluating our belongings, which includes getting rid of things I don’t need, replacing things that need updating, and organizing it all so that it functions well. What’s joyful about this? I finally have both the time and money to focus on this area of life, one that will benefit us all. It feels good when everything functions smoothly, we have what we need, and we’re not constantly reacting to crises.

Reading. I read quickly, and I read a lot. In 2026, I want to make this even more of a joyful practice so I’m going to keep a more extensive reading journal. I’ve been tracking certain aspects of my reading, but I want to expand that. I’m currently deciding between a commercially made reading journal or one I make myself. (Any recommendations?)

Improving my cooking skills and adding new recipes to my repertoire. I’m not in love with cooking like some people are, but I have to do it to keep myself and my family fed. We’re getting bored with what I’ve been making, and I want to take another step towards a healthier eating pattern. I plan to sift through my recipes, try some new dishes, and generally improve my experience in the kitchen. This may also include some new tools to make this easier and more enjoyable, and it definitely includes listening to music, audiobooks, or podcasts while I cook!

Prettifying my planner. Even though I don’t go as far as some planner aficionados, I add washi tape and stickers and occasionally other ephemera into my planner. It makes something I use every day a little more fun. This year I’m allowing myself some small purchases to round out my existing collection of planner/art journaling stuff.  

Elevating the everyday

A new year is a good time to evaluate what’s working in your life and what isn’t. How can you change or adjust your usual routines, habits, and everyday practices to make them more enjoyable and satisfying? We can’t control everything about our lives, but we can make efforts to invite in more joy, satisfaction, wonder, and delight.

How do you make the everyday more joyful? Please share in the comments below.

For more ideas on elevating the everyday, check out Ingrid Fetell Lee’s Joyful or any of Alexandra Stoddard’s books.  

Watching the sun set on 2025  Photo by Marta Sitkowska on Unsplash

’Tis the time of the yearly recap, the year-in-review post, and a look back at 2025’s highs and lows. Sort of the Christmas letter of the blogging world! Wait, don’t click away—I promise this won’t be a recitation of accomplishments that makes you feel bad about yourself. Quite the opposite.

Some people have long lists of goals and accomplishments to share in their recap posts. Not me, at least not this year. Mainly because I didn’t set any major goals in 2025. Basically, I just wanted to get unpacked and settled, and allow myself to recover from the multiple stresses of the past two years. At the beginning of 2025, I was simply too burned out to set any goals or take on any projects. It felt really, really weird. And it feels weird to not have much to show for 2025, which was mostly a quieter, less stressful year, with one big exception. 

Tending the soil

As I wrote in “You Cannot Always Be Harvesting”: “Just as in gardening, in writing, in other creative endeavors—even in life itself, there must be times of planting, feeding, nurturing, even lying fallow.” 

I would call 2025 a year of preparing the soil. Digging out the rocks, adding compost, and yes, allowing some areas to lie fallow. Much of my time and energy was consumed by unpacking and getting settled after our move, and organizing and supervising multiple home projects. I was also responsible for prepping and maintaining our old home while it was being shown.

While 2025’s harvest wasn’t particularly impressive, I can see a few tender shoots pushing through the soil. Smaller accomplishments I can build on in the coming year.

I didn’t take any big trips, but I did go on a beach weekend getaway with my husband, our first in literally years.

I didn’t immerse myself in art journaling, but I did resume regular sketching in my France sketchbook, in person and virtually.

I didn’t “get in shape,” but I did start a new at-home workout plan to get into the habit of doing something physical nearly every day. I wanted to get this habit in place before a new year started, and so far, I’ve been mostly sticking with it.

I tried to hold on to my word of the year, ease, through all the ups and downs of 2025, which was not easy, especially when I wound up immersed in grief, again, with the loss of my horse. 

I still pursued simple pleasures and everyday adventures, and I posted more regularly on Catching Happiness, which always makes me happy. Not a flashy year, 2025, but a solid one.

Hopes for 2026

What’s ahead for 2026? I feel more grounded, less scattered, and more capable of dreaming and planning. Grief is still with me (I suspect it always will be), but it’s a passenger—it’s not driving the bus. I do plan to set some specific goals for 2026, though I’m not completely sure what they are yet. I’m planning to use the time between Christmas and New Year’s Day to reflect and come up with some possibilities. I’ll likely turn to Susannah Conway’s Unravel Your Year or Jamie Varon’s Year in Review to continue reviewing 2025 and get a start on planning 2026. (Both are free, and I have no affiliation with them—I just appreciate their work.) 

As always, thank you for sharing another year with me and Catching Happiness. May the last week of 2025 be filled with much joy and fun plans for the future!

What have been some of the highlights of your year? Any special plans for 2026?