WordFire

I’m afraid that I have lost out on buckets of small joys in my life as I cleared the way for the big happiness - that is all in my head. It doesn’t exist. I made it up - that big happiness.

Small joys - that’s the ticket.

Those little suckers are everywhere: the cold side of my pillow, the smell of bacon, my son’s pink cheeks, the skinny jeans that still fit me, my daughters’ ridiculous eyelashes, early Sunday morning.  Sometimes I choose not to see them — those small joys. Sometimes they are really well hidden behind very real trials and tribulations. But mostly, the joys are masked by the stench of my own bullshit - or laziness - or fear - small mindedness, or a stinky combination of all of the above.

Today, I’m sticking my head in the bucket that’s overflowing with small joys. It smells like peaches in here.