Resting Joy Face: What Traveling with Four Kids Taught Me About Joy

SOMEWHERE ABOVE THE ATLANTIC — With four sleepy kids in tow and a long journey ahead of us, I expected stress. Instead, we found kindness. Over and over again.

There was the compassionate and creative Delta agent who somehow found us a way to North Yorkshire with five seats to rebook after a flight delay forced a missed connection. There was John from Mercer Island, who insisted on buying us a piece of chocolate cake and told stories about his bootlegging great-grandfather from Detroit.

There was the barista who saw me wandering with two water bottles and sought me out to fill them. There were over a dozen wedding guests and hotel workers who went out of their way to greet us and share how handsome our sons looked in their suits. The staff at our grandmother’s care home brought us tea and ice cream during our visit and were forgiving of the soccer ball we lost over the fence.

And that’s not even to mention our family—those who traveled with us or spent gleeful time with us all weekend.

There was kindness and grace lurking, it seemed, around every corner.

Part of this, I’m sure, is that we’re not an ominous or intimidating group. Our kids very clearly have a spark of light and warmth that others recognize. Robyn and I are often frazzled, but we tend to carry a peaceful presence nonetheless.

Some people talk disparagingly about women (usually) with a “resting bitch face” (RBF)—that look of default grumpiness.

But I’ve come to believe in something else:

“Resting Joy Face.”

That’s what I’ve started calling it—the unmistakable glow of someone whose default posture is joy, peace, and kindness.

If the inner monologue of someone with RBF is something like, “I want to talk to you for as little time as possible because I’m better than you,” then the inner monologue of RJF might be, “I’m glad you’re here, and I’m glad to simply be here.”

Over the years, I’ve worked hard to change my own inner monologue—from insecurity and arrogance to one of gratitude. That inner work is hard. But it can be done. We can change our inner world—and we should.

That’s the core belief that undergirds my book, Character by Choice: Letters on Goodness, Fatherhood, and Becoming Better on Purpose. Writing it was, in itself, an act of inner work.

But you don’t need to write a book. We can work on our inner lives in so many ways. We can meditate and journal. We can pray or practice daily gratitude. We can spend time in nature and build better habits of deep listening.

There are many paths to a resting face that conveys joy—both secular and sacred. Joy can be taught, learned, and earned.

I share all this because naming this look—resting joy face—made it more real to me. I can now see it more clearly in others, and I feel more aware of when I have it (or don’t) myself.

And most importantly, seeing it so concentrated in such high doses reminded me that it’s worth working on. Life feels more tolerable—and more beautiful—when we cultivate joy and share it.

It’s work that feels more and more essential—just as important, if not more so, than any schooling, college degree, or job training. Inner work is just as vital as professional development. Earning our joy is just as important as earning a living.

I’m someone who sins. Let’s be clear about that. But I’ve spent years doing the inner work—journaling, writing, praying, asking questions, meditating, listening—the whole bit. It’s made a difference. I know that if I can do it, so can you.

If you’re already someone who focuses on inner work, you don’t need my convincing. But if you’ve been avoiding it, I’ll leave you with this:

Inner work is hard—maybe the hardest work we can do. But I swear on my life: it’s worth it.

So if you ever catch a glimpse of Resting Joy Face in someone—or feel it in yourself—know this: it’s not an accident. It’s the fruit of inner work. And it’s worth every moment of struggle it takes to cultivate it.

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If you’re ready to go deeper, Character by Choice is a book I wrote for myself, but decided to share because it’s a guide for inner work I knew others would value. You can purchase it or download a free PDF [http://www.neiltambe.com/characterbychoice].

Finding Meaning in Simply Existing: A Shift from Chasing to Living

In my first 25 years, I cared deeply about passion, purpose, and finding meaning in my life.

But now, I understand them differently. Looking back, I realize that valuing “meaning” so highly may have come from incomplete thinking.

I used to view meaning as something to attain—almost like a destination. Should my job provide me with meaning? Should I rely on my marriage and family to give me that sense of purpose? And what does it even mean to demand that from these parts of my life?

One moment that changed my thinking came from an unexpected place: a colleague and manager at La-Z-Boy. Whenever I asked him how he was doing, he’d always reply with some variation of, “Good. I’m just glad to be above ground instead of six feet under.”

At first, I found this confusing. Was that really the bar for being “good”? Was simply being alive enough for him?

Over time, though, I began to understand his wisdom.

Maybe we don’t need to constantly seek meaning in our lives—as if it’s a resource to be used up and replenished like gasoline in a car. Perhaps meaning isn’t something we have to chase after; maybe it’s something that comes naturally from simply living.

Now, after more years of hardship, dreams, and changes, I’ve come to see meaning and purpose a different way—that doesn’t involve endlessly searching for meaning.

What if meaning could come from simply existing? Could true peace and enlightenment come from finding meaning in the everyday moments of life, simply because we’re here to experience them?

That’s what I think my colleague was getting at. He wasn’t just saying that being alive was slightly better than being dead. He was suggesting that life itself, without the need for constant external validation, is inherently meaningful.

Finding joy in simply existing takes work. But it’s achievable.

At the heart of this mindset are two principles:

1. Shaping our lives into something we want

2. Learning to live happily with less

When it comes to shaping our lives, the process looks like this:

• Look inward.

• Understand what your inner self truly wants, beyond the ego’s desires.

• Create a small, focused list of things that bring you long-term joy and fulfillment.

• Set clear goals and priorities.

• Gradually work toward shaping your life around those core elements.

• Ultimately, find yourself in a place where simply living feels meaningful.

For living happily with less, the process is similar:

• Again, look inward.

• Understand what the inner self needs, as opposed to what the ego craves.

• Recognize that you already have a surplus of what you need.

• Practice gratitude for what you have.

• Share what you can with others.

• As gratitude deepens, realize you need far less than you once thought.

• Eventually, reach a point where meaning comes from the simple act of living.

However, I want to emphasize that this mindset isn’t about abandoning the work of improving the world.

We must still strive to create a just society where everyone thrives. Ending senseless suffering is vital. And for those who are struggling, the message isn’t to just “be grateful.” This isn’t about ignoring hardships. Similarly, for those who are more fortunate, inner peace can’t be bought—it requires effort and reflection.

These ideas are at the core of my book, Character by Choice.

The book is about the importance of inner work and how to actually do it. Writing it was life-changing for me, and that’s why I’ve made the PDF version free. Inner work changes lives, but it’s difficult and important to learn from each other about.

For years, I chased meaning through work, status, wealth, and stories—but it never seemed to end.

I spent decades searching for meaning, only to feel more lost than ever. That’s why my colleague’s words resonated with me. The real place to be isn’t in constantly chasing meaning, but in finding joy and peace in simply existing.

I believe the path to this place begins by looking inward.

How to Make Selflessness Joyful

To my friends of the mind,

Lately, I’ve been thinking about time and what we leave behind — not just for our children or our children’s children, but for those far down the line.

A generation, they say, is about 30 years. Ten generations? That’s 300 years. It makes me wonder: what could I pass on that lasts for one generation? And, more curiously, what could endure for 10?

One of the biggest lessons I learned while writing Character by Choice was this: to truly be good people, we need to think beyond ourselves. It’s not just about what we accomplish in our lifetimes, but about listening deeply to the call of something greater — something that stretches far into the future, beyond what we’ll ever see or experience. In fact, I’ve come to believe that selflessness becomes joyful when we shift our focus far beyond the present. When we know our actions aren’t ephemeral, but rooted in something that will last for generations, it deepens the sense of purpose and fulfillment. It’s this depth that sustains us, guiding us to work on things that really matter, even if we’ll never see the results.

Let’s say we’ve done the hard inner work, the kind that builds empathy for those distant future generations — the ones we’ll never meet but whose lives we still want to impact. So, what then? What do we actually do with that kind of perspective? How do we spend our time, knowing that we’re playing a much longer game?

I started asking myself this question and even opened it up to some friends on Facebook. Together, we came up with a list of ideas — some lighthearted, some heavy, but all worth considering. What I’ve realized through this process is that I want to focus more on the long game — the 10-gen stuff — instead of getting caught up in things that might only matter for one generation.

So, what might last for 10 generations? Here are some things that came to mind, from the obvious to the unexpected:

• Inventions

• Great companies and institutions that do the right thing

• Values and moral principles

• Beautiful heirlooms

• Novel, simple mental models

• The effects of unconditional love

• Trauma

• Recipes

• Wisdom

• Practical knowledge (e.g., how to can vegetables, how to lay a brick)

• Waste (e.g., plastics, radioactive material)

• Art

• Genetics and predisposition to disease

• A well-built house (or other very well-built things)

• Big beefs

• Spiritual beliefs / Religions

• Culture

• General-purpose technologies (e.g., electricity, the internet)

• The earth and climate

And then there’s the stuff that might burn bright for just one generation before it fades — things we invest time in but maybe shouldn’t overvalue in the long run:

• Inherited wealth

• Reputation / Fame

• Debt

• Status

• Most possessions

• Little beefs

• A “career”

• Incremental innovations

• Politics (for the most part)

• Pop culture

• Gadgets

• News

So, what do you think? What would you add to these lists? More importantly, do you believe the 10-gen stuff is worth striving for? Is it even something we can shape? I’d love to hear your thoughts — let’s keep the conversation going.

Always,

Neil