The
words spoke to me. While scanning my email Inbox, the title of Maria Popova’s
latest “Brainpickings” post caught my eye: “Hermann Hesse on Little Joys,
Breaking the Trance of Busyness, and the Most Important Habit for Living with
Presence.” I opened the post.
I read that in his 1905 essay “On
Little Joys”, Hesse reflects on the
busyness, the hurry-hurry and the
aggressive haste of modern life. Terms
coined over a century ago. I’ve learned the wisdom and truth contained in his
words. Perhaps I developed this philosophy for living due to life’s
circumstances and to the person I am.
Hesse advised everyday contact with
nature. I grew up immersed in the natural world of a small northern California
town. Trees occupied the views from every window in my childhood home. Camping vacations
amidst redwoods started me on the path to becoming a tree hugger.
There were other signs. Searching for
my first apartment, I’d check for the view from the windows. My chosen Berkeley
apartment had a distant view of San Francisco Bay. In the slim space between my
building and my neighbors’ grew a leafy redwood tree and a small garden tended
by a few of the residents. I was forced to move out when the owner decided to
demolish our three-story building in order to build a bigger, seven story
construction. Last time I went by, the redwood tree was gone.
When I moved to Chile to marry my
boyfriend, we settled in the capital, Santiago, now a city of six million
inhabitants. I learned to develop personal strategies for noticing little joys
in this urban setting.
It is just a matter of noticing.
As a teacher in a school situated in the foothills of
the Andes, in free moments, I’d gaze out the window at the glorious sight and
feel nourished and replenished. During lunch hour, I’d walk a few laps around
the hillside track and maybe spot a kestrel perched on a post or hear the
twitter of quail.
These city streets offer dozens of
small joys: flowering jacaranda and ceibo trees, a well-tended garden, a
friendly dog, the chatter of playing children.
Now, although retired, I don’t get
out of the city as often as I’d like. I miss the freshness of forests and the
tang of sea breezes. To counteract this deficiency, each morning I step out
into my backyard to inhale the exquisite fresh air still untouched by the
scents of human activity. The dew releases a potpourri of fragrances from my
redwood tree and the flowering buddleia. Nights I make another mini visit to my
backyard to breathe in the nighttime air and gaze at the few stars visible in
our city sky. Sky. Sometimes I
realize that I haven’t looked at the sky all day.
 |
| Jacaranda tree |
Hesse advises us to cherish the
little joys, inconspicuous and scattered
liberally over our daily lives. They are not outstanding, they are not
advertised, they cost no money!
Lessons for living.
