The Joy of Small Things

The Joy of Small Things

This morning Ingrid and I hiked a hilly loop from our house that took us around an abandoned dump and back along an iced over pond. The route is a challenging combination of scrub brush and lichen covered rocks. We were about a third of the way into our walk when the wind and snow came on. This happened just as we were ascending a cliff that overlooks the north Atlantic. Something about the blowing snow and desolate rocky surroundings gave me a real feeling of being involved in a great adventure. In my mind we could have been explorers covering barren land that no person had ever walked.

Later in the trek we came across an isolated barn. I’m sure the owner picked the location so he wouldn’t have to deal with other people. But today he needed help pushing an immense plastic wrapped bale of hay. He waved us over as we came by, and we happily helped move the bale.

When we were done, we all went inside his barn to see his cattle, geese, and ducks. It has been a while since I have experienced the comfort and peace of a winter barn filled with animals. The warmth and wonderful odour brought back memories of my previous work as a vet.

The morning’s experiences were ordinary enough and could easily be passed off as insignificant. But it is in small everyday happenings that real happiness is often found.

In our work there are major accomplishments that bring great joy. Sometimes it may be tempting to think that only the big things matter. It would be a shame to miss the delight that can come from more ordinary experiences.

As writers, the times we remember most are the moments when the clouds open and the sun shines through. Getting a publishing contract, holding your first book in your hands, being chosen to read at a literary festival or winning a writing prize are wonderful triumphs. These are all amazing experiences, but it would be a mistake to think they are the only joys that writing has to offer.

Art is not a competition. At least it shouldn’t be. Winning prizes and being published in some ways suggest that a writer is perhaps better than other writers. It is important to realize that it is possible to write well without any recognition.

One of my favourite writers is Haruki Murakami. When I read his books and listen to his interviews, I get the feeling that he doesn’t care much whether anyone likes what he produces. He seems to write to amuse himself.

I just finished reading A Wild Sheep Chase and at one point in that book he describes a character as having elves inside his head who are constantly sweeping but have no dustpans. When I read that line, I had to stop and savour the words. The image is so profound and so ridiculous at the same time.

When we write we can get great happiness from constructing a strange or beautiful sentence or even from finding the perfect word. Some mornings, just convincing ourselves to sit down and write is a major accomplishment. It is possible that no one else will think what you have put down is the least bit interesting. No doubt there are many who would find Murakami’s elf analogy foolish.

But as we write, small successes can drive us on. It is important to see the joy in the little things both in life and in our writing. Finding these small bits of wonder can fill our existence with joy and meaning.