Simple Joys
What Really Brings You Joy?
What brings you joy?
For so long, I thought things brought me joy — and that’s partly true. But the deeper I move into this chapter of my life, the more I realize it’s the things that carry no monetary value at all that fill me with the most joy.
Retail Therapy in the Wake of Grief
I’ve fallen into the trap of retail therapy, especially after seasons of deep grief.
When my father died, I thought I needed things. My daughters gently suggested that getting out of the house for a bit might help. I didn’t disagree.
Our first stop was Starbucks. I usually avoid it — the cost and the sugar both send my brain into lecture mode.
So what did I order?
A Trenta iced mocha. Full fat. Full sugar. Zero hesitation.
Did it make me feel better?
A little — for the moment — and I definitely didn’t think about my blood sugar.
When Grief Makes All the Stores Look Like Solutions
As we walked out, I noticed a Verizon store right next door.
Did I need a new phone?
Not really. Mine was perfectly adequate.
Did I walk in and buy a new one anyway?
Why yes.
Yes indeed, I did.
The High-End Department Store Adventure
Our final stop was a high-end department store. I told myself I needed tights for my father’s funeral — practical enough.
But the moment we walked through the doors, we were swallowed by the heavenly cloud of perfumes and lotions. I made a beeline straight for the Estée Lauder counter.
I don’t remember the exact promotion, but I certainly remember:
A bottle of Beautiful
A $100 “bonus” travel case filled with luxury lipsticks, blush, eyeshadow, mascara, nail polish, moisturizer…
You know the drill.
We drifted past footwear (tempting, but I was running out of stamina), found the tights I actually came for, and headed toward the exit.
The Running Total
The damage?
Over $1,000.00.
I’m usually not a credit-card girlie, and I didn’t use one that day, but my poor debit card was screaming.
Grief Round Two — And a Much Bigger Purchase
After my husband died, it took a couple of months before the next buying spree hit. But this one was on a whole different level.
I contracted to build a new house.
A. NEW. HOUSE.
I simply couldn’t stay in the home where he died. The PTSD was getting worse by the day.
I talked to both my psychiatrist and psychologist, and they assured me this reaction was common — and that the move might genuinely improve my mental health if I could afford it.
With the new house came new furniture — which I stockpiled in my garage for months as the house was built. I upgraded light fixtures, bath fixtures, flooring — the whole nine yards. At the time, I was still working, and I watched my paycheck rocket straight out of my bank account month after month.
Fast Forward: 3½ Years Later
After living in my new home for more than three years, something unexpected happened:
I realized I don’t need things anymore.
I have everything I need and everything I could want, and while the things are nice, they don’t bring me true joy.
Rediscovering the Joy in the Everyday
These days, I catch myself smiling at moments like:
Sitting on my deck with a glass of ice-water or cup of coffee
Feeling the sun on my face… in the middle of November
Slipping into bed after a long, satisfying day
Other simple joys:
Caring for my houseplants and watching new leaves unfurl
Playing with the dogs in the yard
Feeling my kitten curl into my lap, purring her little heart out
Staying in pajamas all day, especially on cold winter mornings
Those are the moments that actually fill me.
The Greatest Joy of All
But the most joyful experience?
Time with my kids and grandchildren.
Nothing gets better than that. Nothing even comes close.
Gratitude Is the Purest Joy
I am grateful for the things I have, yes, but I am far more grateful for the people in my life and the moments that remind me I’m still here, still healing, still living.
In the end:
Gratitude is the greatest joy.
Blessings,
Bethannne
