“First our pleasures die — and then our hopes, and then our fears — and when these are dead, the debt is due, dust claims dust — and we die too. “— Percy Bysshe Shelley

Sometimes, those little habits and simple familiar things can make all the difference, right? Especially when the wheels come off. It’s good to know those little things are there and we can count on them. They’re comforting.

I know how easy it can be to get caught up in the busyness of life — crossing items off those long to-do lists (although crossing stuff off a list really does feel good, doesn’t it?), meeting deadlines, caring for home and family. It can be at least as easy to forget to slow down and enjoy those little things. The small, simple pleasures that once brought us joy are often tucked away, out of sight and out of mind. But those beautiful little moments that be exactly what’s needed to ground us, lift our spirits, and provide a much-needed break from the insanity of day-to-day stresses.

(And I know you know nothin’ ‘bout those, right??!) 🤦🏻‍♀️ 🫣

To me, rediscovering those forgotten little joys is nothing short of magical. Happiness doesn’t only come from big, exciting events or monumental achievements or accomplishments.

More often than not, we can find it in everyday experiences. And although they might seem insignificant on their own, when you string a bunch of those memories together they make up a beautiful fabric of comfort and smiles that lighten things up when life gets to be a bit much. ’Cause I’ve heard rumours that this can happen now and then.

😂

The catalyst for writing this piece was one of those simple, forgotten pleasures. Something I hadn’t eaten for years. It was a staple in our family growing up, and one I used to serve to mine, especially when I was a struggling single parent with a bunch of kids and a tight budget. I don’t even know what reminded me of it, but there it was, in my brain, yelling at my mouth. “Remember how yummy I am?? Cook me cook me cook me!!”

It’s macaroni with tinned tomatoes. How exciting, right? I know. Sounds pretty dull. But it’s so yummy! You can fancy it up with some golden fried onions or mushrooms or some crispy bacon if you really want to push the boat out. It’s best with a good dollop of ketchup and a splash of white vinegar. I never ate mac and tomatoes during my 15 years in England because they don’t have this kind of vinegar there and it’s just not the same without it.

Hence…I forgot about this much-loved old staple — until recently when something reminded me of it. I know, it’s not exactly a gourmet dish, but I couldn’t wait to make it. Twenty minutes later, I was curled up on my comfy sofa with a bowl of this unexciting but absolutely yummy comfort food and being transported back to simpler times, when my children were little, before all the awful things happened, the painful estrangements, before massive loss and grief.

You never know what life is going to throw at you, right? The little things matter. They’re more special than you might think until your life spins out of control and all you want is to grab onto something familiar and comforting.

Or another simple pleasure — my recent discovery of home frothers. My daughter, Willow, mentioned having one, something I’d never considered buying, as I don’t drink coffee so I’ve never had cappuccino etc., but it occurred to me that a hefty pile of frothy soy or oat milk could make my cinnamon or spice teas a little more fun!

This reminded me of another simple pleasure I’d forgotten for a few decades — hot chocolate! And oh, my goodness! A new frother and a dash of cinnamon transformed it into something fun and exciting again. It was just a mug of cocoa, but it brought me unexpected delight in an otherwise ordinary day.

Another recent simple pleasure was unearthing a novel that I hadn’t read since I was 17, yet it’s always been held in my heart as one of my three favourites. It was The Diviners by Canadian writer, Margaret Laurence, CC (second-highest honour for merit in Canada).

This novel was influential in sparking my desire to write, something I hadn’t really considered until reading it that summer so long ago. Picking it up and reading it again all these years later was like finding a long-lost friend. Of course, the story hadn’t changed, but I sure have, and the experience was just as fulfilling — if not more — the second time around. (On the remote chance you’re curious, my other two favourite books ever are Gone With the Wind, and Marjorie Morningstar)

These small moments have a way of reminding us what really matters. They ground us. They’re soothing. They lift our spirits and bring comfort.

They show us that joy isn’t always something we have to go digging to find. It doesn’t have to cost a lot or take a lot of time. And sometimes, it’s right there, waiting for us to remember it, which is extra splendiferous because when you’re feeling a bit lost or overwhelmed, give yourself the gift of remembering something that lit you up in the past. Relive it or recreate it. You might be surprised by just how much it can brighten your day.