It’s bone-chillingly cold as Beaumont the Sheepadoodle and I embark on our early morning walk. An Arctic wind has ushered in a skiff of snow and ice-cold air overnight.

Bundled up against the cold, my face is hidden beneath a scarf, my body enveloped in my puffy winter coat. Reminiscent of my mother’s nightly prayer beads clicking together, the cleats on my boots crunch into the icy road, punctuating the still, dark morning.

Despite my silent pleas for warmer air, Mother Nature seems indifferent. Beaumont, ever joyful, is oblivious to the cold.

Our walk is a quiet journey through pre-dawn light, where street lamps pierce the enveloping darkness, guiding us forward.

Despite the frigid air, the beauty of the morning is undeniable.

My beloved and I are visiting friends in Canmore, a mountain town west of Calgary. They’ve recently settled into their stunning new home nestled on the mountainside, offering breathtaking views from every window.

Before leaving yesterday morning, I devoted a few hours to crafting the first post-session email for the “ReWrite Journey” course I’ve designed and am facilitating. This course, aimed at rewriting life stories, began its first session on Monday evening with a group of seven women. It was an inspiring, invigorating, and heartwarming experience, filled with shared stories, insights, and reflections.

This morning, as I sat in the tranquility of our friends’ home,journalling and watching daylight unveil the snowy landscape, a deep sense of contentment and joy filled my heart.

Reflecting on my journalling, I realized how proud I am of creating and leading this course. And at the same time, a seemingly automatic negative thought (some people call them ANTS) entered my mind with the severity of the Arctic winds that blew in last night. ‘What took you so long to do this?’ my critter mind asked in its querulous voice. Ouch.

Hearing its judgement, I asked myself the question, ‘What does this mean?’ – my habit of celebration of something I’ve achieved followed by an immediate questioning of myself and my accomplishment?

This introspection revealed a crucial insight: too often, self-judgment curtails joy. There is immense joy in creating something meaningful and witnessing its impact on others. Yet, the habitual self-critique, the feeling of not being enough, can so easily overshadow this joy.

Limiting joy in life is a self-defeating game.

It’s time to dismantle this game and replace it with thoughts and actions that celebrate and support my journey, acknowledging that I am exactly where I’m meant to be.

What about you? Do you find yourself diminishing your achievements with self-judgment, thus limiting your joy?

How do you confront and dismantle these self-defeating tendencies?

FREE DOWNLOAD: The PDF below suggests 5 ways you can stop stealing your own joy.