The Art of Grit

(5 Minutes)

Eudora Welty once wrote, “The excursion is the same when you are looking for your sorrow as when you are looking for your joy.” It’s one of those sentences that makes you pause. What does she mean? That joy and sorrow share the same road? That no matter what we seek, we travel the same path? The more I sit with it, the more it makes me wonder: Does this mean we have more say in our experience of life than we think?

I’ve often found myself looking for answers in hindsight—realizing that some of my most joyful moments came from the same places that once held sadness. And sometimes, even in happiness, there’s an undercurrent of something else: nostalgia, longing, a quiet knowing that nothing lasts forever. Maybe that’s what Welty was getting at. That we don’t take one road to find joy and another to encounter sorrow; we walk the same one, and what we see depends on what we’re searching for.

What Are We Really Looking For?

I wonder how much of life is shaped by what we expect to find. Two people can experience the same day entirely differently—one seeing opportunities, the other obstacles. The circumstances don’t change, just the lens through which they’re viewed.

Have you ever walked into a situation bracing for the worst? Chances are, you found evidence to confirm your fears. And other times, maybe you stepped into something unfamiliar with curiosity and were surprised by what unfolded. It makes me think: If the journey is the same whether we seek sorrow or joy, then how much of our experience is within our control? Not in an oversimplified “just think positive” way, but in the sense that where we place our attention matters.

Navigating With Curiosity Instead of Fear

There’s a kind of freedom in this idea. If sorrow and joy are interwoven, it means we don’t have to be afraid of one or chase the other. Instead of making decisions based on what we fear, we can make them based on what we’re open to discovering.

I know I’ve held back from things—opportunities, conversations, even small moments—because I was too focused on what could go wrong. But the times I’ve leaned into curiosity rather than fear? Those are the moments that have stayed with me. Maybe the excursion is the same, but the experience is shaped by whether we walk with hesitation or with openness.

Seeing Depth in Every Step

Welty’s words remind me that the journey itself is the reward. That both joy and sorrow teach us something. That the best days don’t happen because nothing went wrong but because we were present enough to notice what was right.

Maybe this is an invitation to pay attention—to recognize that even in sorrow, there are moments of beauty, and even in joy, there are echoes of everything it took to get there. It’s all part of the same road.

So, as you move through your day, I’d love to know—what are you searching for? And has there ever been a time when you found joy and sorrow in the same place? Let’s talk about it.