Photo by Patrick Hendry
My mother’s dog reminds me to enjoy the simple pleasures.
Whiskey is a large dog; he looks like an overgrown seal or a scruffy looking bear. He’s almost 110 pounds. He’s got a wispy grey coat, he’s grumpy, and he loves certain people, especially my younger sister.
Whiskey has a small routine: he sleeps, he eats, he repeats. My main chore involves feeding him and taking him out to the backyard to go to the washroom.
And part of his routine first involves stubbornness, “No you won’t take me outside.” Then I prod with treats. “That was tasty! I’m coming, give me more!” And finally he steps outside, “Ah the fresh air.” To finish, he always finds a patch of grass, or snow in the wintertime, and rolls in it.
He is the happiest dog at that moment. And he does it. Every. Time.
And that, my friends, is a simple pleasure: doing something that makes you happy. It doesn’t have to be the grandest of all joys, but it is something very good, true, and beautiful found in everyday life.
We can learn a lot from Whiskey: let’s enjoy those simple pleasures.
Life is a joy to live. There’s colour and music, there’s food and wine, and there’s friends and company. There’s Andrea Bocelli’s voice, Michelangelo’s sculptures, and sunsets.
Look back at the past month in isolation. What brought you great joy? Do more of that.
For me, I made some “killer” pastas. They’re deadly tasty (you can ask my brother for his testimony). A trip to Rome last year inspired me to make more pasta. My roommates thanked me for the carbonara, spaghetti, and bacon fettuccine dinners. Cooking has been a joy!
Ah, and calling good friends. Obviously being in person would be better, but a simple walk and talk helped me get fresh air and catch up with a buddy. Let’s be very grateful that we have technology. Imagine we had no cell phones or internet! That would’ve made social distancing even harder.
Oh and I can’t forget hobbies. I picked up my paintbrush and worked on an art piece for a family friend: a scene of Jesus and the woman at the well. I'd forgotten how much I enjoy creating. Being in isolation has revived the inner child within me that likes to splash colour on a canvas. Being at home has given me more time for life-giving hobbies.
There’s more to life than being locked in fear and isolation. There’s the goodness of joy, which we can find in any place and in any space. They can be simple pleasures in a pandemic world.
The most simple of pleasures are found in the present moment.
The present moment is where we find the heartbeat, the melody, and the laughter. We also find the hardship, the fear, and the anxiety. Suffering, death, and loss are a real part of this pandemic. In both joyful and challenging moments, the present is all we have. To encourage me away from thinking too much about the past or worrying too much about the future, a few friends spoke to me about this.
St.Irenaeus once wrote, “The glory of God is man fully alive.”
And a good buddy recently encouraged me, “To be fully present is to be fully alive.”
Our prayers with the Hail Mary ends like this, “Pray for us now and at the hour of our death—Amen.”
We’ve only got now!
There’s so much I want to do this summer. I probably won’t play softball and I might not swim at the beach. But what can I do? Live in the present moment.
How can we foster the gift of living in the moment? Here are some things I’ve done that maybe you could do too.
Listen more than speaking. That allows me to observe my surroundings, give attention to those around me, and hear the birds chirp.
Pray for peace. Not every moment is peaceful, especially when I go to the grocery store. So I might say a little prayer for the gift of peace, which helps me overcome any anxiety.
Do something fun. I am most alive when I am laughing. When I am alive, I am the most present. I’ve created good memories with my roommates—card games, drinks on the front porch, and house projects. We’ve tried to make the most of this quarantine.
Develop gratitude. I won’t be isolated forever, so I ponder its blessings. I’ve welcomed the slower pace. It’s given me time to do things I’ve held off on. Taxes, cleaning, longer walks. What are you thankful for?
Life is so much more than fear and isolation. Let us be reminded that there is always a greater resurrection than the cross which preceded it. We can overcome this cross by living moment by moment, conquering fear with joy, and discovering those simple pleasures.