Joy In The Little Things

“The magic in your childhood wasn’t because you were a child. It was because you were living in the present.”

I came across this quote recently, and it stopped me in my tracks.

Over the past few years, I’ve been exploring different mindfulness practices — partly to better understand myself, and partly to ease the undercurrent of anxiety that had started to feel like a constant companion. It wasn’t (and still isn’t) a quick fix, but gradually, I began noticing something: the more present I became, the more familiar and joyful things felt — almost like how they did when I was a kid.

This year, the children in the Spring Room have been beautiful reminders of how living in the present and finding joy and gratitude in the small, simple things can bring a deep sense of peace to both the mind and soul.

I first noticed it with the garbage truck. The Spring Room door faces the underground parking garage where the truck stops to collect the dumpster, so the Springies are always the first to hear and see it coming. Every week, without fail, several children stop whatever they’re doing, pull up chairs to the window, and watch — completely mesmerized — from beginning to end.

Last week, we were coming in from outside just as the garbage truck pulled up. We paused behind the gate to watch, and as the garbage man drove away, he gave a friendly honk of the horn. The children were ecstatic — jumping, cheering, their faces lit up with pure, unfiltered joy.

That same day, we brought out the bubble machines for the first time this school year. The Springies ran after the bubbles, giggling as they popped in their hands or landed on their noses. They were completely captivated — chasing, laughing, spinning — entertained nearly the entire time we were outside. The smiles on their faces were some of the biggest I’ve seen yet. I remember thinking, “Wow; they’re this happy over some dish soap.”

For me, one of the most meaningful mindfulness practices I’ve discovered is learning to find joy and gratitude in the small things: a really good cup of coffee. A hug from a friend. Petting a dog. These tiny moments don’t fix everything, but when I pause to notice them — really notice them — I feel more anchored, more present, more at ease.

It’s easy to find these small moments when I’m with my preschoolers. Their world is made up of small things — and those same small things often bring me the most joy and gratitude, too.