top of page

In praise of quiet satisfaction


Recently, I hired a carpenter to replace the sagging, rotting wall at the edge of my little front yard. The wall abuts the sidewalk where a lot of people walk their dogs or themselves, or they push babies in strollers, or the school kids walk to the middle school. I was worried that part of the wall might collapse on the sidewalk or, worse, on a person or pet. The wall surrounds a garden that I fill with petunias and lantana in the summer, and several years ago, I installed a Little Free Library there that I’m happy to report gets regular use.

 

Because the new wall is not as long as the old wall, I had a spot at the end I wanted to play with, so I moved the library down to that side and set in a mini-patio where people can sit, and I put out a fresh bowl of water each morning for the dogs. I still wanted to do a little more, so I decided to brush up my wood-burning skills and make a compass rose on the piece of wood that borders the front of mini-patio.  

 

I figured out the correct placement of the compass points before installing the piece. I looked up the longitude and latitude of my town, and then I looked up the longitude and latitude of the antipode – the exact opposite spot on Earth, which happens to be in the Indian Ocean. (It’s fun to imagine – here’s a link – and you’ll learn that most of us live in places directly opposite to water, not land.) I heated up my wood burner and set to work. All of this took hours, but eventually I was finally done and ready to install it. I hauled that 51” piece of wood out front and placed it in the ground. I stood back and admired my work.

 

It was very satisfying. It was a private and simple moment. No one was there to cheer me. No one has asked me about it – not yet. There would have to be a confluence of events like me in the garden or the yard at the same moment as someone walking by who notices the inscription, and then asks me what it means. Not likely to happen anytime soon or maybe ever. But that’s fine. I didn’t do it for them. I did it for me. I did it because I liked the idea of it. It was fun to do. And it felt so satisfying to finish and to install it. So, no fanfare. No social media posts. No announcement.

 

Of course, I’m telling you now. But I tell you not for your comments; I tell you my story to remind you of yours. Take note of the quiet, private satisfactions in life that come from things you do simply because you like to do them. Savor that sense of completion you get when you make that great salad, or get the knot in your tie just right, or hit your steps for the day. There’s happiness to be had in small, personal accomplishments like solving a daily crossword, or helping a neighbor who needs a ride, or getting a crying baby to sleep.

 

Life is abundant with small, simple, quiet accomplishments. Appreciate them, and appreciate yourself for getting those little things done.

 

7/15/24

Comments

bottom of page