I had a great day yesterday, even though absolutely nothing special happened, and yet everything I did added up to a feeling of complete happy. My schedule: work, walk the dog, grocery shop, clean out the refrigerator, do laundry, take a three mile walk around a pond with the sun blaring down on me, meditate on a bench at the same pond, chip away at the ice in front of the house, make dinner, and watch two House of Cards episodes.
Simple. Nothing of note. In fact, a bunch of stuff I hate doing. And yet, I had a great feeling of contentment, although I didn’t win the Publisher’s Clearing House Sweepstakes, didn’t lose five pounds, didn’t win the Nobel Prize, didn’t wake up tall and blonde.
It must have been the sun. And the warmth. And some roses that I bought, which are just happiness in a vase. Maybe it was the fact that I actually saw grass, peaking out from underneath the mountains of melting snow on the day we broke the record for Snowiest Winter in Boston. Maybe I was just hyper tuned into the simplicity of a productive, balanced, sunny day. Whatever it was, I’ll take it.