Simple Pleasures
"Be simple enough to feel the true joy of life."
-Debasish Mridha
It’s funny.
It’s funny how you think you want your life to be one way.
With a credible, fancy job.
A nice and big New York City apartment.
Cushy bank account.
But then you actually live your life instead of spewing out baseless, unrealistic pipe-dream fantasties. And you quickly understand how insane it was that you thought that was possible in the first place. And even crazier? You don’t even want that type of life for yourself anymore.
You realize what kind of lifestyle and what kind of problems come along with that.
I remember watching movies like 13 Going on 30 and wanting that type of job, that lifestyle, that perceived importance. The hustle and bustle of the New York City chaos. The office with a view.
I remember being on family vacations growing up and being mesmerized by these gigantic, gorgeous beach houses and thinking to myself, “I’ll own something like this one day.” And I was what—maybe 7? 8? 9? 10? Most little girls want a Build-A-Bear, I wanted a vacation home.
I remember equating success to having a lot of money. I wanted to have so much money. And I don’t even really know why. But as a kid, I really wanted to be rich one day. Call it ignorance, call it societal influence—but it was something I wanted quite badly.
What a silly, little dream to have.
Now, as I type this, I have things far greater than any of those petty ideas of a “successful life”. I have my health, a wonderful partner, a wonderful family, food in my fridge and a roof over my head.
But I also have that New York City job. I’m stressed constantly.
I have that New York City apartment (minus the “nice” and “big”-ness of it all). And I’ve had a hazardous mouse problem that has gotten so extreme the mice are getting on top of my countertops and inside of my oven. They are basically mini dogs that are unregistered on our lease.
I don’t have a cushy bank account. That part hasn’t made its way to me just yet. I couldn’t be more far from a cushy bank account. I must admit, this bothers me and I wish I had a little more, nothing crazy! But a little more would be helpful.
But I don’t even care anymore.
And I don’t say that in a numb or rebellious way, I say it with great liberation and freedom.
All I really want in my life is my and my loved ones health and simple pleasures.
Like
Hot rose milk tea.
Or a creamy cappuccino.
My feet in the grass.
A relaxing Sunday morning walk.
Slow mornings.
A front porch.
Sunlight.
Warm bubble baths.
Picnics.
A cruise with the windows down.
Delicious homemade dinners.
Good music playing in the background.
Those simple pleasures only enrich me and my life more.
They don’t take anything from me. They don’t exhaust me. They don’t ask me for my time. They are just there ready to be enjoyed by me and all who are also willing to try.
And that’s the thing. That’s what makes this all so funny to me. And it’s not anything renowned or mind blowing or any new, unique thought.
But it really is the simple and the things we take for granted that make life successful.
No, not what makes life successful, I don't really like that word much anymore.
They make life worth living. They make life enriching. They make life life.
"Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things."
-Robert Brault
Always,
Jade
The Substack Gods must be trying to tell me something because I've gotten a few stories in my feed that are touching on this type of theme. Simpleness. Finding joy in the small things. Contentedness. It's so true. Thanks for sharing!