The Greatness of the Small

A weekly pause to notice the hidden goodness woven into the rhythms of daily life

Finding Joy After the Storms

By Fr. Francis Tordilla

After Typhoon Uwan passed, I found myself doing what so many others were doing—checking on people, calling friends, and trying to map out where help was needed most.  And now, as Tropical Depression Verbena approaches, the familiar question returns: Is it even possible to talk about happiness while storms—literal and emotional—keep crashing in?

I think it is. But not the “good vibes only” kind that pretends nothing is wrong. I’m talking about the kind of joy that sits beside the mess, holds it honestly, and still notices the light coming through. Amid the rising public anger toward corruption, this article shifts the focus inward—toward the habits, skills, and small graces that help us grow happier and steadier each day.

Arthur C. Brooks— Harvard scholar, writer, and an unlikely happiness coach—offers a 5-step gratitude practice that has helped me make sense of this. And honestly, the past weeks made his ideas feel less like theory and more like survival. Here are some of the key takeaways  I distilled from his podcast on Spotify and YouTube videos.

The 5 Steps Toward a More Grateful Life

1. Don’t Just Feel It—Say It.

Right after Uwan, we started organizing relief operations for Catanduanes. In just a matter of days, the Tomasinong Bikolano—our Tombiks family—showed up like they always do. Messages poured in. Willing donors, both members and non-members, appeared out of nowhere. We were able to pack food for 100 families—100 tables where meals were possible again.

I remember pausing in the middle of the chaos, holding a pack of rice, and saying quietly, “Thank You.” Not to anyone in particular. Just naming the gratitude out loud. That simple act held me together.

2. Pay Attention to the Gift Itself. 

When people donated, I could have focused on the generosity of the giver—of course, that mattered. But what stuck with me more was the thought:

That meal will comfort a mother.

That canned good will ease a father’s worry.

That pack of noodles will make a child full tonight.

Focusing on the gift helped me feel grounded, connected, and blessed.

3. Hold Your Blessings With Humility. 

Gratitude hits differently when you realize how much of life is a gift. No matter how hard I work, I can’t claim credit for everything. Some blessings simply arrive—through people, through timing, through grace.

Even my new morning habit has taught me humility. These days, I wake up early and, for the first time in a long time, I don’t reach for my phone. I just sit there on the edge of my bed—quiet, half-awake—letting the alpha waves settle. In that stillness, I feel it: I didn’t earn every good thing. I just received it.

4. Be Thankful Even for the Hard Parts. 

No one asked for Uwan, and no one is excited about Verbena. But these storms reveal what comfort hides. They show us resilience, community, solidarity. They show us how much vigilant we should be when it comes to choosing our leaders. These storms show us that we endure—not because life is smooth, but because we walk together.

I don’t romanticize hardship.  But I can say honestly: The storms taught me something about myself I would not have learned in calm weather.

5. When Something Good Happens, Don’t Rush Past It. 

We live in a world that moves too fast. Even relief work can feel like a checklist if you’re not careful. But when we finished packing the last of the 100 food bundles, I didn’t rush to the next task. I stood there for a moment, sweaty and tired, looking at the mountain of yellow eco-bags.

And I let the goodness linger. That pause felt like prayer.

The same happens in the mornings—those first still minutes before the world intrudes.  That quiet is becoming one of my small joys.

So… Can We Still Be Happy?

Happiness feels like the wrong word for days like these. But steadiness? Gratitude? A sense of being held, even while winds howl? 

Yes. Absolutely. Because gratitude doesn’t deny the storms. It simply reminds us that storms are not the whole story. There is still grace to notice, people to thank, work to do, sunlight to stand in, and mornings to greet with quiet awe.

And somehow, even through Uwan and Verbena, joy finds a way to stay.