During the holiday season, as always, the words “merry,” “happy,” and “joyful” are bandied about more than at any other time of year. As I think of the long laundry list of woes within even the most secure of households this past year, part of me wonders how “happy” can even be part of the conversation.

And, yes, the personal struggles of so many, as well as the political, health, economic, and environmental crises we face as a nation, are enough to disturb and distress every single one of us.

Yet we all know people who remain genuinely happy, or we even feel surprisingly happy ourselves. It’s a remarkable thing. So this got me asking myself and my friends what the ingredients for happiness actually are, and I have a few ideas.

Normally at the holidays, we look to travel, reunions with family and friends, festive rooms filled with our favorite people, or great meals with all the fixings to count ourselves happy. We look to beautifully wrapped presents to make others happy, and gifts that are exactly what we’ve always wanted to feel that we’ve done the season well. And then we’re done with “merry” until next year, right?

This year few of us have done many of the things we may have previously considered indispensable to holiday joy. Yet some seeds that can bloom into happiness are just below the surface.

For example, in past years I kept my equilibrium during the holidays by putting off Christmas cards until the New Year. They had simply become one more source of stress. This year I realized that emails, calls, and handwritten notes actually have been stress relievers, and cards are one of the main events. They feel like a way to genuinely connect in isolating times.

I’ve written and received fewer cards, maybe, but they have been heartfelt, and I have felt happier.

Likewise Zoom, FaceTime, and Skype have been amazing. At first, all I could see were their limitations, but when the usual ways to link to family and friends are off the table, they look awfully good. So being present, in some form or other, with people we care about is one key to joy.

Embracing the outdoors, even in winter, has been a source of connection and joy. I learned recently that Norwegians have a name for it, “Friluftsliv.” As I walk with friends on streets and trails or visit with others on porches and around fire pits, I am concluding they are absolutely right. As the Norwegians say, “There is no bad weather; there are only bad clothes!”

Tapping into something deeper and bigger than ourselves seems to me to be another key. Whatever our religious traditions are, the people I know who return to those traditions during this dark time can and do feel a sense of comfort and joy. The communal aspect of ceremony, song, or ritual cannot be understated. We do better when we get out of our own head and join in things that tie us to a larger world.

And when we get outdoors in nature and feel awe, we tie ourselves to a larger universe.

The pandemic has menacingly exposed the disparities of race, income, and opportunity that exist in our nation, and has demonstrated that these are far worse than even the pessimists among us previously imagined. This past year, too, we seem to have figured out all kinds of other ways to create and deepen divisions among ourselves. We live in our glass houses and can’t resist throwing stones.

Yet hunkering down in our warm bubbles is absolutely the saddest and most miserable thing we can do. Even as we quarantine, socially distance, and wear our masks, we need to think less about ourselves and our list of woes and outrages. We need to find things to laugh about. We need to find commonalities rather than differences.

Ironically, if there has been anything good about the year of COVID, it is the fact that we are all in this together. Wouldn’t it be amazing if that fact helped enlighten us in our pursuit of happiness?

Here is to a happy New Year for each and every one of us.

(Millie LaFontaine of Concord is a retired neurologist.)