Little Joys.

I’m writing this outside, on a blanket, soaking up the first warm and sunny day we’ve had in a long time. The grass is still brown and crunchy, but the sun is hot and bright and a reminder that Florida is about to come back to life. I’m writing with a pen and paper, because lately I’m more inspired by a blank page than by a glowing computer screen. 

Jack is running around butt naked. I’ve gotten him dressed three times today, he’s gotten himself undressed three times today, so we’re at an impasse here. He thinks it’s the funniest thing in the whole entire world to be naked in the yard and is just running in circles laughing-a deep belly, infectious kind of laugh. 

It is, so simply, a joyous moment. A small moment, sure. But joyous. A little joy. 

I’ve been working really hard lately on a lot of things, and I’ve been really tired as a result. The things I’m working on are all good things, all important things. They all have happiness as the end goal. But I can’t help but notice the fact that I feel happier right now, sitting on a blanket in the sun, than I’ve felt in a long time. 

It took me two hours to write this post that I normally would’ve knocked out in twenty minutes. I stopped and played football with Jack, stopped and made a smoothie, stopped and just closed my eyes and enjoyed the sun. It was slow and simple and made my to-do list for tomorrow much longer, but what’s it really matter? Because where’s the good in marking off another step on the way to those big joys we’re planning for ourselves if we don’t stop and enjoy the little joys along the way?

Little joys. Yeah. More of those.