This isn't your typical book review—though I have journeyed through these pages before.
I've curated a small collection of books to accompany me through the year. The kind with daily entries, one for each morning that unfolds. Among them sits Simple Abundance by Sarah Ban Breathnach.
This book has woven itself into the fabric of my mornings. Coffee steaming beside me, I turn to these pages for a gentle dose of inspiration. Then comes the quiet work: reflecting, contemplating, letting pen meet journal as thoughts crystallize into words.
Today's passage struck something deep within me. For context—I spent a decade immersed in the Psychology of Happiness, eventually earning my MA in Mental Health along with postgraduate certifications in Professional Counseling and Addiction Counseling. Understanding happiness became more than academic pursuit; it was personal excavation. Perhaps that's what happens when you're searching for something within yourself.
Something about today's reading compelled me to share. Because here's what I've discovered after all that study, all those years of seeking, the answer to happiness is disarmingly simple:
It is difficult to experience happiness if we are not aware of what it is we genuinely love. We must learn to savor small, authentic moments that bring us contentment. Experiment with a new cookie recipe. Take the time to slowly arrange a bouquet of flowers in order to appreciate their colors, fragrance, and beauty. Sip a cup of tea on the stoop in the sunshine. Pause for five minutes to pet a purring cat. Simple pleasures waiting to be enjoyed. Simple pleasures often overlooked.
...she delighted in red shoes, good food, sudden bursts of laughter, reading in French, answering letters, loitering in crowd at the fair and 'a new idea when first it is grasped.'
Let us each grasp a new idea this year. Let us grasp the awareness of what it is that makes use truly happy. Let us consider our personal preferences and learn how to recognize, then embrace, moments of happiness that are uniquely our own. ~Susan Ban Breathnach
Today's passage drew from a book that captured Breathnach's attention—A Life of One's Own by Joana Field, published way back in 1934. Naturally, I tracked down a copy for myself and I'm currently working my way through it.
Now I find myself facing the same inquiry that echoes through both books. The question sits before me, simple yet profound: What actually makes me happy?
Good coffee. Reading poetry. A book I can't put down. Old black and white movies. A homecooked meal. Watching the sunset. Costume jewelry. Bubble baths. Strawberry and peach wine coolers. Assembling a diorama. Dolls. My art journal. Sitting on the porch swing doing nothing. Rearranging my altar. Writing in my journal. Candles. Laughing with my daughter. Petting my cats. City lights at night. The moon. Looking at the night sky. Yoga. Vintage books. Making jewelry. Old gothic romance novels. Dressing up for a night out. Movie theatres. Music. Black high heeled shoes. Deep philosophical debate with a friend. Laying in the grass watching the clouds. Walking barefoot on the shore (any shore with sand and waves will do). Cuddling a reborn doll. Painting my toenails. Handwritten letters. Making something for someone else (food, a card, a piece of art, jewelry, etc). A long walk. Sitting on a bench people-watching.
I could probably come up with a lot more. But what about you? What makes you happy?