Hello, dear friend,
Over the darkest months of this past winter, I fell into a mental and physical hole so deep it seemed possibly bottomless.
But even the Grand Canyon has a bottom (I hiked there once in my early 20s), and I am now, day by day, feeling better and better and better.
While I was in that hole, I had a focus.
It’s my focus now, too.
Tiny Joys.
Because I’m pretty sure it’s not just the big joys we should be aiming for, but more so the tiny ones. I’m pretty sure we get a biggie now and again, but mostly our lives are made of the littles.
(If joy itself is too big a word to reach for especially while in a hole, then maybe we could aim for a delight, contentment, awe, relief? Or even a bearable or not-terrible?)
The surprises like dust motes, that turn a shaft of sunlight into a sparkle party.
The curiosities like snails, who slide along an elastic timeline never missing a micrometer of the journey.
The wonders like mitochondria, tiny engines that power our cells, tissues, organs, and in turn, as it turns out, our whole selves.
My Tiny Joys such as:
My son, who is more adult than child now, putting his head on my shoulder as we sit side by side on the couch, watching our show (which at the moment is Severence, weird and beautiful and frustrating and compelling).
Calling for the cats to come inside as it gets dark and inhaling the mossy, loamy, gloamy air.
Receiving this watercolor postcard from a former client, now artist, Debra Peevy. Each is a tiny joy for her to paint. Sending each as a love-note is its own tiny joy. Then receiving the recipient’s enjoyment: tiny joy cubed!
My backyard grass that grows knee-high and silky, bringing shame to my landlord but sensual cool to the soles of my feet.
My primary care doc who does such shocking things as answering my questions in a timely manner and apologizing when she gets something wrong.
The birds happily chirping, so loud they get through my noise-cancelling headphones into the ears of my callers.
A tall glass of water with two ice cubes.
Rainstorms (that aren’t hurricanes).
Dinner someone else made.
Our ridiculous, contortionist kitten.
And you, dear one.
Will you become a Tiny Joy Detective, too?
Here are the prerequisites for The Tiny Joy Detective Training Program:
- Notice what catches your attention, pulls your focus, opens your heart even a bit.
What moves the needle on your aliveness, even a fraction of a hair of a speck of an atom?
- Write it down. Or underline it in your mind.
This. This is a joy diamond.
Collect them. Polish them. Put them in piles and watch the piles grow, adding up to a good day, a good life.
- Email me and tell me some of your tiny joys (or reliefs, bearables, not-terribles).
You sharing your tinies will become another of my tinies.
With micro doses of joy,
