Finding Joy and Choosing Kindness in a Harsh World
The world feels heavy these days. Every news bulletin seems to carry another headline of conflict, division, or disaster. Social media, which once promised connection, too often becomes a battleground of quick judgements, harsh words, and people forgetting that kindness matters.
It can feel relentless. Overwhelming. Harsh.
And yet, I believe joy is still here for us to find. Not in grand gestures or perfect circumstances, but in the quiet, everyday moments that remind us of our humanity. In a world that often feels harsh, choosing kindness and finding joy are acts of quiet resistance.
From Chaos to Calm: My Own Turning Point
A few years ago, my life felt like it was in constant crisis. Family pressures, a demanding career, and the long shadow of the pandemic combined into a storm I couldn’t outrun. My mental health suffered. The noise of the world—its negativity, its urgency—seeped into every corner of my days.
When our family situation finally stabilised, I made a conscious choice to look for a better way forward. Writing became my outlet. Creativity became my therapy. Slowly, I began to put a positive focus on what I shared: slow living, intentional rhythms, seasonal joys, and small moments of calm.
That choice was not just about me. As a parent of a child with additional needs, I have seen how a lack of compassion, inclusivity, or even basic understanding can wound. I’ve also seen the opposite—the power of kindness, patience, and acceptance to change a moment, a day, even a life. That lived experience has shaped everything I now value: not only the search for joy, but also the daily practice of choosing kindness.
That’s why this space exists. Our Little House in the Country was always meant to be a place of kindness, calm, and reflection—a counterweight to the harshness of the wider world.
A Story About Kindness (and the Lack of It)
Not long ago, I received a message on one of my platforms. It was long, critical, and unnecessarily harsh. The person behind it didn’t know me at all, yet felt entitled to tell me I was a disappointment, that I’d lost my way, and that they wouldn’t be following me anymore.
At first, I brushed it off. But within minutes, it got under my skin. Why do we let the words of strangers hurt so much? Why does it sting when someone we don’t even know throws stones?
I could have replied in anger. Instead, I chose kindness. I explained where I stood, thanked them for their message, and then deleted the chat and moved on. Because here’s the truth: I would never dream of spending my time writing such a message to someone I didn’t know. Life is too short.
And yet, this seems to be a growing trend. Online and offline, people believe they have the right to be heard at all costs—that their opinion is more important than kindness, respect, or compassion. But in my experience, nothing good has ever come from aggression. Not in my professional life, not in my personal life, not in the world at large.
What Truly Changes Things
Years ago, I sat in meetings where tempers flared, voices rose, and aggression took over. Nothing was ever resolved. People left disillusioned, hurt, and angry.
By contrast, when people came to the table with openness and compassion—even when they didn’t agree—solutions were found. Understanding was reached. Progress was made.
As a parent, I’ve seen this in smaller but no less important ways too. When people dismiss, judge, or fail to understand hidden needs, doors close quickly. But when compassion is offered—even if it’s just patience in a queue, or someone making space rather than rolling their eyes—those same doors open.
Kindness doesn’t mean weakness. It means choosing the path that actually leads to resolution, inclusion, and understanding.
More recently, at Mass one Saturday evening, I was struck by the words of a visiting priest. He spoke of kindness, compassion, and inclusivity—not as lofty ideals, but as practical, powerful tools for living. His message echoed what I have long believed: we will achieve more through gentleness than we ever will through aggression.
And perhaps, in these harsh times, that message matters more than ever.
The Quiet Revolution of Kindness
The last few years have shown us just how harsh the world can be. And yet, I’ve also seen an incredible amount of kindness—quiet, steady, and strong.
It’s in the readers who send me messages saying, “I feel like I’ve come home here.”
It’s in the neighbour who checks in on an elderly friend.
It’s in the small businesses supporting one another in difficult times.
It’s in the teacher who takes a moment to really see the child who struggles.
These acts don’t make headlines. They don’t shout the loudest. But they matter. And they’re proof that beneath the noise, there are so many people craving a gentler, kinder, more meaningful life.
I like to think of it as a quiet revolution—one act of kindness, one moment of patience, one choice to include rather than exclude.
Finding Joy in Everyday Moments
So, how do we actually find joy in a harsh world? We begin small.
- Lighting a candle and taking ten deep breaths when the day feels overwhelming.
- Cooking a simple soup with what’s left in the veg drawer and sharing it around the table.
- Watching your teenager’s favourite YouTube clip with them—even if you don’t get the joke.
- Sending a kind message instead of scrolling past.
- Stepping outside for five minutes of fresh air, letting the wind clear your head.
- Listening—really listening—to someone you love.
- Leaving a kind comment on someone’s post, just to let them know they’re seen.
These moments don’t erase hardship. But they give us strength to face it. They remind us that joy can coexist with sorrow, and that kindness and compassion can stand as quiet acts of defiance against the harshness around us.
If you’d like more on this theme, you might also enjoy some of my earlier reflective posts:
Why This Space Exists
When I began writing again, after years of stress and crisis, I knew I didn’t want to add to the noise. I wanted to create a safe, positive space—somewhere people could pause, reflect, and feel less alone.
That’s why Our Little House in the Country is deliberately inclusive. I don’t write from a faith-based perspective, even though I have my own beliefs, because I want this to be a space where everyone feels welcome—whatever their background, their story, their faith, or their worldview.
Over the years, people from so many different walks of life have found this space. And each time someone sends me a message saying they feel at home here, I am reminded why I keep showing up.
This is a space rooted in joy, kindness, and inclusivity. A space that exists to counterbalance the harshness of the world.
In the end, it comes down to this: life is already difficult enough. There is grief, struggle, stress, and uncertainty in every home, every family, every heart. We do not need to add to that by being unkind.
What we need is an opposing revolution: a commitment to kindness, compassion, inclusivity, and understanding. A willingness to slow down, to listen, to look for joy where it hides in the ordinary.
Choosing joy and choosing kindness are not naive. They are brave. They are quiet acts of rebellion in a harsh world.
✨ Final Note: If you’re weary of the noise, I hope you’ll always find here a little peace, a little calm, and a reminder that kindness still matters. Because it does. And because together, we can choose a gentler way.
Chat soon,
Ciara x
Our Little House in the Country
Hi, I’m Ciara — writer, homemaker, and the heart behind Our Little House in the Country. I share slow, seasonal living from our cozy corner of the Irish countryside, where life is a little messy, a little magical, and deeply real. Whether it’s a teen-friendly recipe, a lived-in home moment, or a reminder to let go of perfection, this space is about embracing the everyday and finding joy in what’s already here. Come in, kick off your shoes, and stay a while — the kettle’s always on.
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