Olivia Dias Bagott

Joy is not a function of a life free of friction and frustration, but a function of focus – an inner elevation by the fulcrum of choice.

Rachel Carson: “Those who contemplate the beauty of the Earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts.”

As we navigate this strange and anxious world, choosing joy becomes more than a personal act of resilience – it becomes a radical gesture of hope. In an era where cynicism so often masquerades as wisdom, the decision to remain constructive, to trust in human potential, is itself a quiet but powerful form of resistance.

Feel the sorrow, take the action, but keep pressing the weight of joy against it all, until it becomes mindless, automated, like gravity pulling the stream down its course; until it becomes an inner law of nature.

“The proliferation of devices surrounding us at all times may help us ‘get in touch’ with other people, sure, but they impede our ability to get in touch with ourselves. A ‘touch’ screen would indeed seem to promise something tactile and real, but they leave us cold, tepid and listless. Something is deeply wrong when we sext the same way we order a

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“Walking lets you read the world – and much like the slow, contemplative mental processes involved in reading a book, the pace with which one moves through the world while walking allows for a different, deliberative kind of seeing. You notice more. You think more.”

The way we’ve elevated professional identity to the centrepiece of selfhood comes at a considerable cost, narrowing our understanding of value and connection to something that can be neatly added to LinkedIn.

I want to know and be able to explain my personal taste, not just accept one that’s been spoonfed to me because of a pay-for-play scheme at Spotify, for instance. I don’t want my behavior modified by a social media empire; I want to make all my own mistakes.