😊 🌼 Things That Make Me Happy - The Slow Life Stories - Bedtime Stories for Adults - Cozy Stories for Grownups and All Ages

0:02 Welcome to the 50th episode of The Slow Life. Thank you for being here. Whether you've listened to all 50 Cosy stories so far, or this is your first, or any number in between, you are appreciated. I'll read this story 2 times to help you zone out or even fall asleep during the second reading. This story is called Things That Make Me Happy, and it's about noticing in every moment, slowing down on purpose, and delving deeper.

0:48 Summer has arrived in date and for the most part in weather, I'm happy. I left the window open overnight to feel the warm breeze upon awakening as it cooperates by filtering through the screen and brushing over my face and arms. I turned my head towards my night stand where I'd set my journal and pen before. My eyes felt heavy and ready for sleep. A good sleep I've had too. I know because I'd awoken in the same position in which I had dozed off. This also makes me happy.

1:33 After noticing these two things before even sitting up in bed, I lie here wondering what else brings me happiness. This gives me an idea for a fun project for myself. I opened my journal to a fresh page, writing in my neatest hand across the top 50 things that make me happy. I choose 50 because it's a nice round Number, and it's a high enough one that instead of scanning over the day, or even each moment as a whole, I'll need to delve deeper into the noticing. I give myself an easy beginning by writing what's already made me smile, the warm breeze on my skin, waking up after a good sleep, and turning to a new page in my journal, which is like a frequent fresh start.

2:39 This list isn't something I want to accomplish right away in one sitting. I decide to collect my 50 things over the course of the week, writing only those things that I experience at the time, not simply brainstorming everything I can think of. My body and mind are now ready to get up to see what today will bring. Once I'm dressed, I remember to take my journal and pen with me, as I will do for the next 7 days. I've barely made it to the bottom of the stairs, thinking that I could already have filled half the page by seeing things that make me happy. But this list isn't all about material things, although there will be some physical objects included for sure. My new sun dress I'm wearing for the first time being one of them.

3:44 I don't drink coffee every day, or even very often at all, but it's full energizing aroma is one of my favorites. So on to the page and into my cup it goes. I naturally write a sentence or two about each entry, not just a numbered list of what, but the why is included as well. With my journal tucked under my arm, my mug and a fresh biscuit in hand, I step on to the back porch where the sun blooms through my orange patio umbrella, turning everything beneath it golden and warm, like the colour of honey.

4:32 The colour of happiness, really. I take a seat for longer than I mean to, watching bees drift between blossoms and the gentle breeze rocking the umbrella only slightly, making that quiet creaking sound I love. Over the next few days, I continue filling in blank spaces of my journal, and the seemingly insubstantial moments of my week are transformed into meaningful ones. I notice so much more. The scent of damp basil after watering my pots of herbs.

5:17 The soft clink of a spoon being set on a saucer while I sit at the tea shop. The way the sky darkens before the summer thunderstorm arrives. Once I begin looking, the world offers these moments freely, and one right after the other, I only have to pay attention. I get an e-mail from the library, and the thrill of seeing that the book I had on hold has arrived feels so good it surprises me. I smile like I've received a love letter.

5:59 I leave right away to go pick it up, but I don't hurry on the short walk. The smell of wild pink roses has me stopping at almost every front yard where they're close enough to put my nose up to them. The walk home is slower than usual as well. I carry the book, plus another one that called to me from the new books display in my bag. Like precious treasures, my list grows as I hear the trickle of a small fountain in someone's garden pond. A puppy still finding his footing, trippy trips towards me to say hello.

6:48 I get hops and kisses as if I'm just the person he wants to see. Some days the list grows faster on farmers market mourning, especially when the stalls are full of early summer fruit and the air is full of the sounds of paper bags crinkling and heartfelt greetings between neighbors and friends. There's something about holding strawberries so ripe they leave pink marks on your fingers, choosing which flowers to put on my table, and of course, smelling fresh bread still warm from the oven. Other things I write about come in quieter moments. The feeling of clean sheets on a freshly made bed, the soft weight of a cat or two resting on my lap. Even the act of folding dishcloths into neat squares on a slow afternoon becomes a kind of meditation. I have a feeling this may go well past 50. When sunlight dapples the wall through Maple leaves outside my windows, When I catch sight of someone's laundry drying in the fresh air a few houses down.

8:17 When I stretch first thing in the morning and feel every inch of sleep fall away. It grows when I sit on the steps in the evening, watching fireflies blink across the lawn, and again when I hear the faint echo of crickets through an open window as I washed the last dish of the night. It's the morning of the 7th day and I've almost finished. Certainly I could have jotted down hundreds more, but I stuck to my title at the top of the page. Although I do know I'll continue adding to it, both on paper and in my thoughts. As we all seem to be learning.

9:08 Happiness lives in the simplest places, under pergolas, covered in vines, in the sound of birds singing, in the glow after the rain, and in the making of lists. Things that make me happy. Summer has arrived in date and for the most part in weather, I'm happy. I left the window open overnight to feel the warm breeze upon awakening as it cooperates by filtering through the screen and brushing over my face and arms. I turned my head towards my night stand where I'd set my journal and pen before.

10:02 My eyes felt heavy and ready for sleep. A good sleep I've had too. I know because I'd awoken in the same position in which I had dozed off. This also makes me happy. After noticing these two things before even sitting up in bed, I lie here wondering what else brings me happiness. This gives me an idea for a fun project for myself. I opened my journal to a fresh page, writing in my neatest hand across the top 50 things that make me happy. I choose 50 because it's a nice round Number, and it's a high enough one that instead of scanning over the day, or even each moment as a whole, I'll need to delve deeper into the noticing.

11:04 I give myself an easy beginning by writing what's already made me smile, the warm breeze on my skin, waking up after a good sleep, and turning to a new page in my journal, which is like a frequent fresh start. This list isn't something I want to accomplish right away in one sitting. I decide to collect my 50 things over the course of the week, writing only those things that I experience at the time, not simply brainstorming everything I can think of.

11:47 My body and mind are now ready to get up to see what today will bring. Once I'm dressed, I remember to take my journal and pen with me, as I will do for the next 7 days. I've barely made it to the bottom of the stairs, thinking that I could already have filled half the page by seeing things that make me happy. But this list isn't all about material things, although there will be some physical objects included for sure. My new sun dress I'm wearing for the first time being one of them. I don't drink coffee every day, or even very often at all, but it's full energizing aroma is one of my favorites. So on to the page and into my cup it goes. I naturally write a sentence or two about each entry, not just a numbered list of what, but the why is included as well. With my journal tucked under my arm, my mug and a fresh biscuit in hand, I step on to the back porch where the sun blooms through my orange patio umbrella, turning everything beneath it golden and warm, like the colour of honey. The colour of happiness, really.

13:22 I take a seat for longer than I mean to, watching bees drift between blossoms and the gentle breeze rocking the umbrella only slightly, making that quiet creaking sound I love. Over the next few days, I continue filling in blank spaces of my journal, and the seemingly insubstantial moments of my week are transformed into meaningful ones. I notice so much more. The scent of damp basil after watering my pots of herbs. The soft clink of a spoon being set on a saucer while I sit at the tea shop.

14:10 The way the sky darkens before the summer thunderstorm arrives. Once I begin looking, the world offers these moments freely, and one right after the other, I only have to pay attention. I get an e-mail from the library, and the thrill of seeing that the book I had on hold has arrived feels so good it surprises me. I smile like I've received a love letter. I leave right away to go pick it up, but I don't hurry on the short walk.

14:51 The smell of wild pink roses has me stopping at almost every front yard where they're close enough to put my nose up to them. The walk home is slower than usual as well. I carry the book, plus another one that called to me from the new books display in my bag. Like precious treasures, my list grows as I hear the trickle of a small fountain in someone's garden pond. A puppy still finding his footing, trippy trips towards me to say hello. I get hops and kisses as if I'm just the person he wants to see. Some days the list grows faster on farmers market mourning, especially when the stalls are full of early summer fruit and the air is full of the sounds of paper bags crinkling and heartfelt greetings between neighbors and friends. There's something about holding strawberries so ripe they leave pink marks on your fingers, choosing which flowers to put on my table, and of course, smelling fresh bread still warm from the oven.

16:19 Other things I write about come in quieter moments. The feeling of clean sheets on a freshly made bed, the soft weight of a cat or two resting on my lap, even the act of folding dishcloths into neat squares on a slow afternoon becomes a kind of meditation. I have a feeling this may go well past 50. When sunlight dapples the wall through Maple leaves outside my windows, When I catch sight of someone's laundry drying in the fresh air a few houses down.

17:02 When I stretch first thing in the morning and feel every inch of sleep fall away. It grows when I sit on the steps in the evening, watching fireflies blink across the lawn, and again when I hear the faint echo of crickets through an open window as I washed the last dish of the night. It's the morning of the 7th day and I've almost finished. Certainly I could have jotted down hundreds more, but I stuck to my title at the top of the page. Although I do know I'll continue adding to it, both on paper and in my thoughts. As we all seem to be learning.

17:53 Happiness lives in the simplest places, under pergolas, covered in vines, in the sound of birds singing, in the glow after the rain, and in the making of lists. I wish you happiness and sweet dreams.