Maybe the truth is, there’s a little bit of loser in all of us. Being happy isn’t having everything in your life be perfect. Maybe it’s about stringing together all the little things.
Finding a Patch of Sunlit Rug
If my cat can be thrilled over a simple patch of sunlit rug, there’s no reason I can’t savor the little things that make me happy. They don’t have to be huge.
A nice cup of tea, comfy socks, a new song you discovered this past week.
A workout that just felt right in the moment — know what I mean about that? Those times when your body is in motion, and everything clicks, and it’s almost like you start moving on your own. Like you’re doing the steps to a dance you were made for. This doesn’t happen often for me since I’ve been clumsy my whole life. But every now and then, things align. And boom. Magic.
A book that takes you somewhere else. Into the minds of fascinating people, lives you’ll never live but almost do for however many pages the illusion lasts.
A recipe that you tried and it was actually better than you thought it would be. One that surprises you. Yes, even if you have to scroll past some long-winded story the blogger thought you needed to hear about eating that food in their childhood or something.
It’s not a lot. But that can be my patch of sunlight on the rug. And I hope you can find one, too.
I’ve found during the darkest times that even if I can’t find them in my own life, with persistence and patience, I can find them in other people’s. And nurse a little vicarious joy that way. In that way, I can be grateful that good things do happen — even if they’re not happening to me at that exact moment.
For example, a good friend of mine recently graduated from college and has gotten their first job in their new field and they’re so happy. Another found out that she’s expecting (she and her partner have been trying for ages with no luck).