Rejoicing the Small Things

It took some weeks for a sliver of clarity to appear around this idea, eventually crackling and flowering with revelation.

And what revealed was pure simplicity.

I can’t pin down the precise moment as it was a slow progression, but what I began doing was rejoicing in tiny things.

Coffee, being high on my list of pleasures, became a tiny celebration everyday. I drink black coffee, so savouring the flavour, the body, the aroma, was always a done thing, but I began to infuse the word joy with that experience.

I reminded myself that this is what joy feels like.

With every cup, sometimes every sip, I would acknowledge this joyous moment. A silent tip of the cap. A little smile, perhaps.

This. This is joy.

Then, I began to pin-point aspects of experience that bring me joy.

Life’s Many Sources of Joy: A List

• Animals. Animals bring me joy. Whether it’s the low flight of a passing bird, the furry, quizzical face of a cat or the happy dog I encounter as I’m walking. Those tiny moments bring me out of myself and remind me of how gorgeous life and its many shapes can be.
• Plants. Plants bring me joy. I walked home a few nights ago with my head pointed up and away from the concrete, observing all the trees as I strolled. I felt so grateful to whoever it was that planted all those trees. They sprawl with a wild elegance towards the sun and they looked so beautiful against the backdrop of evening dusk. Feeling their trunks is like an exhale. There’s something so intrinsically trustworthy about the wood and bark of a tree, touching base with life itself, with childhood, with reality. I have a window sill blooming with plants and I have one hanging from my wall as I type. They’re far from action packed companions, but just knowing they’re alive is enough to bring joy and with each unfurling leaf comes another dose of delight.
• Water. Water brings me joy. Its wonder is like no other. It brings life to all — literally. Its tumbling translucence, be it to quench thirst or to bathe, is as close to god I feel us mere animals will ever get. The rivers, the lakes, the oceans… are heaven’s representatives here on earth.
• Fresh air. Fresh air brings me joy. Since I began meditating a few years ago I’ve developed a deep appreciation for my lungs and their gentle bellowing motions. There is nothing better than filling them with cool, clean air and feeling the luscious oxygen perforate throughout my body.
• Sunlight. Sunlight brings me joy. I once slept in my tent for two months straight. I got used to sunlight being my alarm clock. Now there’s no going back, my preferred visible spectrum has been reset to that of natural light. I don’t even like turning the light on if I have to wake up early, I’d rather draw the curtains and dress in the moonlight. So when the summer sun peeks in my window of an early morning hour, I rejoice at its return. The harmony I feel with the solar energy of the sun dwells from somewhere deep, somewhere ancient, somewhere ancestral. If water is a god on earth, then the sun is a god from above.
• Connection. Connection brings me joy. I’m quite a loner and the older I get the more difficult it is to find people I want to spend time with. I have the old faithfuls who have survived my friendship thus far and with every year that passes my love for them grows. But on a daily basis, my taste has become so refined I struggle to enjoy people, which makes it particularly special to meet people I easily connect with. An interaction with somebody on a mutual level is a rare and precious gift that has the ability to leave me smiling and content for the rest of the day.
• Writing. Writing brings me joy. Words bring architecture to consciousness. Consciousness itself is so mystifying it’s almost unbearable, but words can be weaved into wreaths of elucidation. I relish in their musicality, their infinite delicacy, and their ability to invoke profound openings in the human psyche. A carefully crafted arrangement of syllables can chime to me like cymbals pinged at perfect pitch.
• Music. Music brings me joy. The older I get, the less guidance I need from music. I no longer need songs heavily laden with lyrics, although poetic words are always enjoyed. A beautiful melody is enough to take me away and to carve out dimensions to emotions. I can ride a sonic wave through my memories or my presence and feel cosmic thrill aloft the notes.
• Movement. Movement brings me joy. I feel so grateful to be conscious within an able vehicle. A vehicle able of limitless dexterity and grace. How awe inspiring it is to look at ones fingers and to move them at will. I’m aboard a flight of majesty and its magic isn’t taken for granted.

So next time your bare feet are snuggled in warm sand, or your hands are pressed against soft grass, or a cat rubs its head against your skin. Take that moment and rejoice. Allow yourself to feel really good. Celebrate in your own tiny way, and mean it. I can’t say exactly how, but life itself will begin to make more sense.

Stoke the embers of joy within. Don’t let remnants fade into the ashes of childhood.

It’s okay to feel excited about the tiny things. It’s okay to often feel awe. It’s okay to spend that extra little bit on something that makes you happy.

It’s okay to relish in simplicity, if simplicity brings you joy.