I commit to finding joy and happiness.

Joy has a poor reputation for punctuality. It does not usually arrive on the big day you cleared for it, the holiday, the birthday, the thing you spent months arranging. It turns up sideways, on a Tuesday, in a car park, for no stated reason.

Which makes committing to it a strange sort of promise. You cannot schedule the feeling. What you can schedule is proximity: the walk, the phone call, the evening you kept free, the room with people you like in it.

That is the whole of the commitment. Show up where it has historically found you, and stop grading the times it does not.