February 13, 2026

Our Private Selves Part 6

What if the secret to a meaningful life isn’t found in grand achievements, but in the quiet pleasures we barely notice?

It’s the little things that make our day… such as a perfectly brewed cup of coffee, the swim followed by a hot shower, lavender’s fragrance on your pillow at night. A kiss that lingers. An embrace that says everything. A phone call from someone who asks nothing but wants simply to talk. There’s the weight of a warm blanket, eggs cooked exactly as you like them, and an unexpected smile from a stranger that catches you off guard. And those brief, electric moments, like a chance gaze with someone that creates in an instant, wordless understanding. Then there is feeling frisky and adventurous for no reason at all. 

These little things are intensely personal. No one knows all of them, not even we ourselves can name every singular delight that punctuates our day with happiness, satisfaction, sighs of contentment, and those good feelings we can’t quite articulate. Yet somehow, they make our day whole.

The big, wonderful things are fantastic when they arrive. They could be a creative breakthrough, a new friendship that changes everything, the day you bring home a new dog, welcoming a child into the world, typing the final sentence of your manuscript, standing on foreign soil for the first time, or finally mastering that skill you’ve practiced for months. These moments are extraordinary, but they don’t, and can’t, come every day. We don’t even expect them to. What we count on, what we need, are the little things. They’re the threads that weave through our hours, carrying us from moment to moment, from morning coffee to evening wind-down, until the day gently concludes.

You might be reading this Reflection right now, finding something in these words that resonates with you. This itself is a small thing on the grand scale of existence, yet the thoughts it provokes may steady you through today’s rough patches. Some of our little things have surprisingly far-reaching consequences. After you finish reading, there are probably mundane or laborious tasks waiting. But you’ve likely planned a small reward for when the work is done, something that makes your heart lift: meeting a friend for lunch, losing yourself in a good film, cracking open that new book still in its shipping box, sinking into yoga and meditation, having people over for dinner, or savoring a slice of that cake you’ve been thinking about. These aren’t trivial indulgences, but the things that bring us joy, spark something alive in us, keep light dancing in our eyes and help us live in the present.

My mother, who came from England, used to quote an old saying: “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.” This bit of folk wisdom, first recorded by Welsh writer James Howell in 1659, captures a profound truth. When we work habitually without pausing for delight, without making room for play and pleasure along the way, something essential drains from us. We become flat, lifeless, dull both to ourselves and to others.

I believe our soul child, that authentic, spontaneous, playful part of us, already understood this instinctively. Think back to the delights and happinesses of your childhood years. They were mostly little things: the cold sweetness of an ice cream cone on a summer day, setting up the electric train with careful hands, or today’s equivalent, mastering a level in a video game. Maybe it was the soaring freedom of swinging higher and higher, badminton, the pride of helping flip pancakes, playing endlessly with the cat, chalking hopscotch squares on the sidewalk, or lying in fresh snow to make snow angels. That’s all we needed to feel content, even charged. Honestly, I have never met a soul child who was dull, truly bored, or boring. 

But when the soul child went underground beneath its protective crust… when growing up meant setting aside play, we had to make conscious, concerted efforts to reclaim it. And when we didn’t? There it was again: we became those dull Jacks, carrying a lifeless quality within and projecting it outward into the world.

Today, I invite you to take note of the little things that carry you from one task or activity to the next. These delights are your incentives, your rewards, your reasons to stay in the moment and to keep going. What are you looking forward to after you finish this Reflection? A walk? A conversation? A moment of quiet? Our private delights don’t just make our day, they fill our hearts with good things…. They make our lives.


Spiritual practice: Contemplate what keeps a light in your eye.

Self-inquiry: Why might you not be aware of the delights that make your day?

Prayer:

Dear God, The source of all our delight is You, the creator of joy. Oh, how joy heals us! Thanks be to God. Amen

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Our Private Selves Part 7

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Our Private Selves Part 5