The Happiness of Simple Pleasures
When you stop to think about it, isn’t it awesome that our senses bring us joy? The taste of a ripe, juicy peach, the splendor of a sunrise, the coolness of water, the scent of a rose?
Oh, I know the strict materialists can argue that it all serves some utilitarian function evolved to aid us in survival. But I’ll counter that joy serves that function, too. It’s life’s pleasures, after all, that make it worth all the trouble of sticking around.
Simple pleasures – the touch of a loving hand, warm socks, the fragrance of freshly baked bread – are the poetry of life. They soothe us and save us from monotony.
Think of the difference a favorite piece of music can make in your mood, how it plays on your emotions—invigorating, inspiring, comforting or empowering you. In every culture on earth, we humans make music. We sing and whistle, we chant and hum, and we thump and pluck and strum and blow just for the exquisite joy of it.
Think of the simple sights that bring little slivers of happiness to your day—a play of color in a shop window, dew beaded on the morning grass, the halos around street lights when it rains, oil in a puddle. It doesn’t take much.
And it didn’t have to be that way. We probably could survive if the world was nothing but shades of gray and if all the birds sang the same tune. But it isn’t, and they don’t. And isn’t that grand?
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