On finding love, joy and celebration in the ordinary moments of life.
Two young fish are swimming along when they happen to meet an older fish coming from the opposite direction.
The older fish nods and says, “Morning, boys. How’s the water?”
The two young fish continue swimming for a while. Eventually, one turns to the other and asks, “What the hell is water?”
This little story, shared by David Foster Wallace in his famous commencement speech, This Is Water, has stayed with me. It is a wonderful reminder, not just for the young, but for all of us, at every stage of life.
We spend so much of our lives searching for love, joy and happiness. We look for them in fancy restaurants, exotic holidays and extraordinary experiences, often forgetting that they may be hiding in plain sight, woven into the fabric of our everyday lives.
And don't get me wrong. I absolutely love being in a fancy restaurant and the thrill of exploring an exotic destination. There is something wonderful about stepping outside our routines and experiencing something new. But then what? We return home, slip back into our daily routines, and before long, life feels ordinary again. Sometimes, even a little humdrum.
And that is where my point lies…..
What if we learned to find love and celebration in the ordinary moments of our lives, rather than waiting for extraordinary occasions to feel alive?
What if we could find joy in the middle of a busy workday, in the quiet comfort of home, or in those seemingly insignificant moments that make up the bulk of our existence?
Much like the two young fish, we often fail to notice the very thing we are immersed in. Our default settings are so deeply ingrained that we move through life, barely noticing what is right in front of us.
The water, of course, is not always pleasant. Sometimes, it feels unbearable. Especially when we are exhausted after work, navigating a difficult conversation, dealing with an unexpected setback, or carrying an endless to-do list in our heads. Our minds are already racing towards the next task, the next deadline, the next problem to solve.
In the midst of all this, it is easy to forget that life is happening right here, playing live.
We become so focused on getting through the day that we forget to experience it.
Perhaps the answer isn't always to escape our everyday lives. Perhaps it is to learn to inhabit it differently.
For me, this means finding joy in the things I love. It could be singing along to a favourite song, spending time sketching, or crocheting. These activities may not seem particularly significant to anyone else, but they bring me back to myself. They offer a moment of stillness, a sense of engagement, and the simple pleasure of doing something purely because I enjoy it.
And perhaps that is what celebration really means: not necessarily a grand occasion, a lavish dinner or an extravagantly planned holiday, but a conscious decision to make room for joy in the middle of an ordinary day.
There is also something wonderfully restorative about immersing ourselves in activities we enjoy. Whether it is creating something with our hands, losing ourselves in music, or simply sitting quietly with a cup of tea, these moments can help us reconnect with ourselves.
We don't always need a reason to celebrate. Sometimes, the celebration itself is the reason.
Rabindranath Tagore, the Nobel laureate, is quoted as saying:
“In art, a person reveals himself and not his objects.”
I love this thought because it reminds me that what we create, what we enjoy, and what we choose to pay attention to reveal something about who we are. The beauty lies not merely in the finished product, but in the experience of creating it, and in the part of ourselves that we bring to it.
Perhaps the same is true of life. The things that bring us joy need not impress anyone else. They need not be productive, remarkable or worthy of sharing on social media. They simply need to mean something to us.
Here is my little way of celebrating…..
A set of granny-square table mats, lovingly crocheted, and a few flowers to brighten up the space. Nothing extravagant, nothing that calls for a special occasion. Just a little colour, a touch of creativity, and something beautiful to enjoy in the middle of an ordinary day.
And just like that, my ordinary day feels a little more extraordinary.
Perhaps that is what celebration looks like for me: taking something I love, giving it a place in my everyday life, and allowing myself to enjoy it without waiting for a special reason.
What might it look like for you?
Perhaps it is putting fresh flowers on your table, cooking a meal you love, picking up a paintbrush, listening to your favourite music, or simply taking the time to savour your morning coffee.
So, perhaps we can stop postponing happiness until the next holiday, the next celebration, the next milestone, or the next time, life finally slows down.
Perhaps we can begin by noticing the small things: a conversation that makes us smile, the comfort of coming home, a song that lifts our spirits, the satisfaction of finishing something we have made with our own hands.
Perhaps we can learn to celebrate the life we already have, even as we continue to dream of the life we hope to build.
Because happiness may not always lie somewhere beyond our daily routines. It may be right here, in the familiar, the repetitive and the seemingly mundane.
So, the next time life feels ordinary, take a pause in those humdrum moments. Look around. Take a deep breath.
And ask yourself:
“What the hell is water?”
You might discover that what you have been searching for has been surrounding you all along.
Celebrating with these beautiful vintage plates and the beautiful table cloth handembroidered by my mom❤️
