Joy in Chaos
When life is overwhelming, joy can feel like a hidden treasure. It used to be a lot harder for me to find, because I was looking in the wrong places. My amygdala was at the wheel, driving me further away from what I already had access to — because for me, joy was primarily dependent on external circumstances. If I was smart enough, good enough, had enough, then I'd feel joy.
When life began to crumble around me, I learned something important: joy is an inside job. It doesn't start with fixing what's outside you — it starts with your body feeling safe enough to let joy back in. As long as I made joy contingent on external events, it would always be fleeting.
There is another way. I call it the 3N Model™: Notice, Name, Navigate.
Notice
Chaos has a way of narrowing our attention, and it results in tunnel vision. We fixate on the boiling pot, the deadline, the mess — and the small signs of safety already available to us slip past unnoticed because we're blinded by fear.
Noticing is the pause before the reaction. It's the half-second where you feel something shift in your body — a loosening or tightening in the chest, a slower breath, warmth instead of tension — and you actually register it instead of pushing through to the next fire to put out. That shift is the body telling you the truth of the moment: fear in the driver's seat, or enough safety to soften.
Name
Once you notice a sensation, naming it turns a cue into something real. It's just as important to notice the expansive sensations as the restrictive ones.
This matters because unnamed states tend to dissolve back into the noise. Chaos is loud; safety, by comparison, is often quiet and easy to talk over. Naming and thanking whatever is present helps the body feel safe enough to stay present, with the prefrontal cortex back in the driver's seat instead of the amygdala.
Navigate
This is where the model earns its keep. Navigating isn't about escaping the chaos to go "find" joy elsewhere — it's about letting the sense of safety you noticed and named speak louder than fear, and letting that change how you move through uncomfortable circumstances.
The chaos will always be there, no matter how hard we try to outmaneuver it. Navigating from a sense of safety looks different than navigating from pure survival mode — softer shoulders, more patience with the next interruption, a willingness to let the moment be a little bit funny instead of only a lot stressful. Joy isn't the thing you're chasing here. It's what tends to show up once safety leads the way.
Joy Isn't Something You Manufacture
Here's the part that took me longest to embody: joy isn't something you have to build from scratch in the middle of chaos. It's already wired into us — we just need enough safety and space for it to surface. Joy is the byproduct, not the goal.
We're built for social connection, and joy tends to follow close behind when we feel safe. A shared laugh, a glance that says "can you believe this," a hand on your shoulder, moving through the mess together instead of separately — these aren't small things. They’re cues of safety. A real laugh with someone in the middle of chaos isn't just funny — it's two nervous systems recognizing each other as safe, and joy rising in the space that opens up.
And even joy that happens alone isn't as solitary as it may seem. The quiet lift you feel from being in nature, losing an hour in a creative project, or sinking into something you find meaningful — that's connection too. Connecting with yourself so you can connect and hold space for others.
This is why the 3N Model isn't about creating joy out of nowhere. Noticing and naming aren't manufacturing joy — they're clearing space and building the safety that lets it emerge on its own.
Joy Doesn't Wait for Calm
We tend to believe joy needs the right conditions — quiet, order, time. What it actually needs is safety, and safety doesn't require order. We can't know joy without knowing chaos. The 3N Model isn't a way to escape what you're feeling. It's a way to notice enough safety inside whatever you're feeling that joy has room to follow.
Next time your day goes sideways, try it: Notice what your body is telling you. Name it, even silently. Navigate to safety — and let joy show up as the byproduct, not the goal.