If you're over 65 and can't remember the last time you felt these 8 things, you've lost touch with joy

Remember when joy felt effortless? When a simple sunset could stop you in your tracks, or a random conversation with a stranger could lift your entire day?

Last Thanksgiving at my parents' house, I watched my grandmother sitting quietly in her favorite chair. She's the woman who raised four kids on a teacher's salary, who still volunteers at the food bank every Saturday, who once drove six hours to bring me soup when I had the flu in college.

But something was different. The sparkle that used to light up her eyes when the grandkids ran around seemed dimmer.

Later that evening, she confided in me. "I go through the motions," she said, "but I can't remember the last time I felt truly excited about anything."

That conversation stuck with me. Because she's not alone. So many people over 65 tell me they feel disconnected from the simple joys that once colored their world.

But here's what I've learned: joy doesn't abandon us as we age. Sometimes we just need to remember what it feels like and invite it back in. If you can't recall experiencing these eight feelings recently, it might be time to reconnect with what makes life sparkle.

1. Genuine belly laughter

When did you last laugh so hard your stomach hurt? Not a polite chuckle at someone's joke, but that uncontrollable, tears-streaming-down-your-face kind of laughter?

Laughter literally changes our brain chemistry. It floods us with endorphins and helps us connect with others on a deeper level. Yet somewhere along the way, many of us start taking life so seriously that we forget to find the humor in it.

I've noticed that the happiest older adults I know actively seek out comedy. They watch silly movies, share ridiculous memes with their grandkids, or call that one friend who always has the most outrageous stories. They give themselves permission to be silly.

Try this: watch a comedy special tonight. Call that friend who always made you laugh. Let yourself be ridiculous. Your joy depends on it.

2. Childlike wonder at something new

Remember being amazed by things? That feeling of discovering something for the first time and being completely absorbed by it?

One of my siblings recently taught our grandmother how to video call. Watching her face light up when she realized she could see her great-grandchildren in real-time from across the country was pure magic. "It's like something from a science fiction movie!" she exclaimed.

That's the feeling I'm talking about. The world is still full of wonders, even if you've been around for 65+ years. New music genres, technologies, foods, hobbies, places in your own town you've never explored.

Wonder isn't about age. It's about allowing yourself to be a beginner again. To ask questions. To admit you don't know everything and be excited about that fact.

3. The flutter of anticipation

Do you have something on your calendar that makes you count down the days? That gives you a little thrill when you think about it?

Anticipation is joy's appetizer. It's the excitement before the event that often brings as much happiness as the event itself. Research in behavioral science shows that anticipation actually activates the same brain regions as the experience itself.

But I've noticed many older adults stop planning things to look forward to. They fall into routines without markers of excitement. Every week looks the same.

Break that pattern. Book a lunch with an old friend. Sign up for a class. Plan a small trip. Even something as simple as ordering a book you've been wanting to read can give you that flutter.

4. Deep connection with another person

Not small talk about the weather. Not updates about medical appointments. But real, soul-level connection where you lose track of time and feel truly seen and understood.

These connections require vulnerability. They require us to share what we really think and feel, not just what's appropriate or expected. And that gets harder as we accumulate more years and more walls.

The loneliness epidemic hits older adults particularly hard. Yet the antidote isn't more social interaction. It's deeper social interaction. Quality over quantity.

Who in your life could you open up to more? What conversation have you been avoiding that might actually bring you closer to someone?

5. Physical vitality in your body

I'm not talking about running marathons or having the energy of a 30-year-old. I'm talking about that feeling of your body working with you instead of against you. The satisfaction of movement, however gentle.

Many people over 65 tell me they've accepted physical decline as inevitable. But accepting limitations and giving up entirely are two different things.

Find what makes your body feel good within its current capabilities. Maybe it's water aerobics, gentle yoga, or simply dancing to your favorite songs in your living room. The goal isn't perfection. It's remembering that your body can still be a source of pleasure and strength.

6. Creative expression

When did you last make something? Not for anyone else, not because you had to, but simply for the joy of creating?

Creativity isn't about talent. It's about expression. It's about taking what's inside you and giving it form in the world. Whether that's cooking a new recipe, writing a letter, arranging flowers, or humming a made-up tune.

Somewhere along the way, many of us internalize the message that creative pursuits are frivolous or that we're "not creative people." But creativity is how we process life, how we make meaning, how we play.

What did you used to love creating? What stopped you? What small creative act could you do today?

7. Spontaneous delight

The unexpected text from an old friend. The perfect parking spot. The song on the radio that takes you back. These tiny moments of delight are everywhere, but we have to be open to receiving them.

Depression and disconnection from joy often show up as an inability to register these small pleasures. Everything feels flat, predictable, gray.

But delight is a practice. It's choosing to notice. It's allowing yourself to be interrupted by beauty or kindness or coincidence. It's saying yes to the small invitations life extends every day.

8. Hope for tomorrow

This might be the most important one. Do you believe tomorrow could surprise you in wonderful ways? That there are still experiences, relationships, and discoveries waiting for you?

Hope isn't naive optimism. It's not pretending everything is fine. It's believing in possibility. It's understanding that your story is still being written.

I see too many people over 65 living in the past tense. All their stories are about what was, who they used to be, what they used to do. But you're still here. You're still becoming.

What could tomorrow hold that you haven't imagined yet?

Wrapping up

If you couldn't remember the last time you felt several of these things, you're not broken. You're human. And you're definitely not alone.

Joy doesn't have an expiration date. It doesn't care about your age, your circumstances, or how long it's been since you last felt it. It's always available, waiting just beneath the surface of your everyday life.

Start small. Pick one feeling from this list and actively invite it back. Watch something funny. Plan something exciting. Create something terrible. Move your body in whatever way feels good.

Because here's what my grandmother discovered after our Thanksgiving conversation: joy was never gone. She'd just stopped looking for it. And once she started looking again, she found it everywhere.

You deserve to feel all of these things again. Not occasionally, but regularly. Not as memories, but as current experiences.

The invitation is there. Will you accept it?