My posts have been heavier lately because my life has been heavier. And while nothing has really changed, I need a little bit of light. Just some light writing about things that bring me joy. So I decided now would be a good time to begin a series I've been pondering. A series about simple joys.
A while back I wrote about finding minimalism and feeling like I was finally home. Since then I've written about not liking stuff, getting rid of hundreds of books, only keeping one set of dishes for each member of the family, and what to do with all the trophies. In my efforts to minimize I have taken thirteen trailer loads to the dump or the thrift store. It's felt great. And, yes, there is still so much to do.
But one of the best things about getting rid of stuff is what I keep. Deciding what matters to me and what doesn't. Letting go of emotional attachments that are more guilt than love and everything kept just in case. The things I intentionally keep bring me joy.
One of these things is my bowl. It's ceramic. It has about a three cup capacity. It's deep. It's good for a small bowl of cereal or a big bowl of stew. It's the only bowl I use. And it brings me so much joy. Every time I use it.
There is something about the heft of it. It's kind of heavy. I like that. It feels solid in my hands. It has a wonderful little chip in it that serves as the perfect place to rest my thumb as I hold it. It is kind of a dark blue with a snowman head -- wearing a hat and a scarf and a big smile. It also has white dots scattered sparsely around the bowl. Raised dots. I love texture. The added texture of those dots on my bowl makes me happy.
One day it will break and I will have to fall in love with another bowl. That's okay. I've found that the fewer things I own the easier it is for me to love them.
For now I have it and it brings me a ridiculous amount of joy.