Catch a Falling Star and Put It in Your Pocket: Why We Should Hold On to Moments of Pure Joy

Sometimes, joy sneaks up on you. You walk out of the gym and feel unstoppable — testosterone rushing through your blood, energy in every limb, the sky sharper and bluer than before. You look up at the moon, and for a second, you’re surprised by joy. It fills your chest, stings your eyes, and you think, I’ve never felt this good. How do I hold on to this?

We don’t stop often enough to say, "Wow, this is amazing." We’re too busy scanning for what’s next, what’s missing, what could go wrong. But when you’re lucky enough to feel fully alive — like your blood is singing and the world is shimmering — you owe it to yourself to stop. And store it.

Because life always turns. And in the hard seasons, we need reminders that joy exists. That it came to us once, out of nowhere, and it will again.

And this is not just poetic — it’s neurological. Studies in affective neuroscience show that when we consciously savour moments of joy, we strengthen the brain’s ability to recall them later. Barbara Fredrickson’s research into “positive resonance” shows that shared or amplified joy widens our capacity for resilience, love, and emotional regulation. In simple terms: joy makes us stronger, and remembering joy makes it last longer.

So what can we do to hold on to joy?

Pause. Breathe. Say it aloud: This is joy. This is mine.

Feel it in your body — in your skin, your breath, your fingertips.

Anchor it with your senses: What do I see? Hear? Smell?

Write it down. Speak it out loud. Or just close your eyes and press it into memory.

This isn’t about chasing happiness or denying hardship. It’s about building a storehouse of light for darker times. It’s about knowing that even in the ordinary — after a workout, under a sky, with music in your ears — you can be surprised by joy.

So if you find yourself in one of those moments, don’t rush it. Let it fill you. Let it leave a mark.

Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket.