The everyday aspect of life has become significantly more important than before. As there are notable limitations outside the home at the moment, it makes me look into my surroundings and what it consists of more deeply. Beside my amateur interests, which sometimes remind me how I cannot really go or visit any specific place freely, I try to appreciate the little things of the everyday. Really, the littlest things.
In my walks through nature or next to a lake, I try to appreciate the whole picture in front of me and see the especially beautiful, pleasing parts of it. As I’m taking in the scenery, I also try to pay special attention to the weather and how its freshness wakes up and sharpens my senses. The more I walk, the sharper I become in seeing and observing my surroundings, and the livelier I feel. This special appreciation of my surroundings became more important during this past year since many public, crowded places mostly cause worry of being in them.
When I buy flowers, I think of the color and the shapes to the petals. I look for the perfect spot for them so I can immediately see them when I wake up in the morning. Often (and yes, I actually do this) I stop to just look at the flowers for a moment and the perfect symmetry of the petals as well as the lovely color. It almost becomes mesmerizing that these things exist, simply because they are incredibly pretty with delicate features and affect the mood significantly. The beautiful colors with different shapes and sizes together sometimes affect my perceptions in the sense that their soft details make me want to concentrate on the flowers—which kind of also wakes me up some mornings, assisting the coffee I make.
Making coffee becomes precise in order for me to make it exactly how I prefer it. Of course, this does not mean I have barista equipment. I merely mean making it dark enough and waiting for it to become hot enough without letting it sit for thirty minutes or more. That first sip, as I assume we all know, is just heavenly and the bitterness particularly reminds me that coffee is best drunk somewhat slowly, instead of gulping it down which is kind of horrible. I understand that the everyday coffee consumption might make the hot drink boring, and yet it is still consumed because our bodies are just too used to the caffeine. But occasionally, with me at least, those moments come back where coffee is savored with every sip. (And I would like to assume that those lovely Moomin cups help.)
Sometimes, when I’m drinking my coffee, I go to my books. They have formed this little collection which has grown during these university years, and so, have become an important part of my home. I try to be somewhat careful with them, but occasionally reorganize them to see if they look better in another order. For some odd reason, I tend to be careful because I don’t want to damage the books. What does it matter? Well, it just does—it is a vain concern, but it exists, nevertheless. It becomes a pleasant activity because from every reading experience I take away something, so they are equally valuable and bring a feeling of content to the everyday—where they can be seen, occasionally reread and organized to look nicer on my little shelf for them. They are not even that “decorative”, but they are there – to be looked at and felt and to bring about musings of their effects.
So then, what makes a lovelier reading experience than taking a book and curling up under a soft blanket? Especially during chillier times when a blanket becomes one of your best friends? This amazingly comfortable thing that also fits for drinking tea or watching a movie. This is true relaxation – or a form of one – and this is the case especially when it makes you aware of the tranquility and softness that you are curled up in. With me, it is taking it all in and appreciating it, even if it is just for a little moment when I’m aware of this little sensation. A nice add is always a couple of candles for their relaxing little flames (something I might also stare at sometimes, while trying to read).
Being somewhat sensitive to these sensations makes life so much more pleasant, and there is obviously more to it: the beauty of cooking; the pleasure of decorating; the feeling of different fabrics to find the comfiest; and, again, simply the pleasures of walks in nice environments. Appreciating the little everyday things, and the feelings of satisfaction they might create, means that you are connected to your surroundings and try to see more beauty of the everyday. It can be good for the soul to make this little effort, and it would not mean that you are trying to make the everyday “less everyday” – you would merely try to appreciate it more for your own sake.