For years, possibly decades, I spoke with my mom at least once a day. Over time, as her dementia worsened, the phone was no longer a viable way to communicate. I miss our conversations. Our calls frequently were about the people we loved and the time spent together. She’d say, “That’s the good stuff!”  She always communicated a deep sense of gratitude for her family, friends, music, art, and the preciousness of time. 

As the world begins to start, pause, and restart, so much uncertainty and distress exist. What life will look like a month or year from now is impossible to know. Yet, each day we forge forth with work, family, projects, and life. We move ahead despite the considerable uncertainty. It can feel exhausting, overwhelming, or scary. In your mix of doing, are you making time to notice and embrace the “good stuff?”

What is on your “good stuff” list? Here are some of mine:

• Waking up each morning

• Opening my eyes after meditating 

• Taking the first sip of coffee from my favorite mug

• Holding hands with my husband

• Hearing the sound of rain hitting the window panes

• Walking by the river

• Hugging my daughter, especially after being apart for six months

• Baking lemon blueberry muffins

• Picking herbs from my mini garden

• Capturing images of people, places, and nature with my camera

• Swimming in my friend’s pool

• Hearing birds sing

• Touching a very soft blanket

• Sitting quietly

• Biting into a big, juicy piece of watermelon

• Writing with my favorite pen

• Watching the leaves rustle in the breeze

• Having a conversation (phone, Zoom, or in-person) with a friend or loved one

• Relaxing in the hammock

• Eating a chocolate brownie Yasso pop

• Seeing my client experience an “ah-ha” moment during their virtual organizing session

• Writing in my journal

• Watching a good movie, or even a bad one

• Kayaking on any river

• Discovering new tomatoes growing on my cherry tomato plant

• Being still during the last ten minutes of yoga class

• Discovering vibrantly colored flowers

• Reading a good book

• Learning something new

• Getting into bed at the end of the day

“In your mix of doing, are you making time to notice and embrace the good stuff?”

— Linda Samuels, CPO-CD®

Time is a gift. Some of our time will be spent navigating the daily doings of life. Included with responsibilities and commitments are also those things that make your heart sing. Or, as my mom would say, “the good stuff.” What is one thing you include on your list? I’d love to hear your thoughts. I invite you to join the conversation!

Time is universal. We all have the same 24 hours in a day. Yet how we choose to use and feel about that time varies widely. You have scheduled and unscheduled time, hours spent doing what you enjoy and what you don’t. Your days can be intentional or haphazard, filled with obligations, commitments, fun, rest, and challenges.

Lately, I’ve noticed how many moments of joy and delight are present even in these uncertain times. With so much unrest and distress around us, why am I writing about happiness? Especially when life is hard, it’s essential to acknowledge and embrace moments that fill you with delight.

The pandemic changed our daily lives. Opportunities to try new things emerged during the shift. Surprisingly, in this chaos, some beautiful moments emerged. I’ll share a few things I’ve recently experienced, hoping they will spark some ideas for you. 

5 Ways to Take Time for Delight

1. Watch Tomatoes Grow

Earlier this month, I created my first mini garden in our greenhouse. One of the vegetables I planted were cherry tomatoes. Each day I check to see how they’re doing. I water or mist them as needed. Little yellow flowers started blooming, which are magically becoming tomatoes-to-be. Right now, they are round, green balls that will hopefully turn bright red. It’s a simple thing, but it makes me smile with delight every time I check on their growth. It feels good to nurture them and watch the changes.

2. Cut Hair with Scissors

You’re probably thinking, how else would you cut hair? Of course, you use scissors (or a clipper!) The thing is I’ve never cut hair other than the disastrous time I cut my mother’s hair when I was 10 years old. My husband hasn’t been able to get his hair cut during the pandemic, so I offered to “try.” I was amazed that Steve trusted me to cut, especially since he knew about the mom incident. While I don’t plan on opening a salon, it turns out I’m not half bad at cutting hair. The great discovery is that I love doing it!  I feel giddy when I cut. It’s so satisfying to snip away, kind of like hair decluttering. I’ve learned one lesson. Don’t say, “Oops,” if you chop off more than you meant to.

“Especially when life is hard, it’s essential to acknowledge and embrace moments that fill you with delight.”

— Linda Samuels, CPO-CD®

3. Walk Socially Distant with Friend

It wasn’t that long ago we could walk where we wanted, with whoever we wanted, as closely as we wanted, and mask-free. But times have changed. The only walks I’ve taken in these past months have been by myself or with my husband. Since New York recently loosened the stay-in-place orders, I felt comfortable trying a socially distant (and masked) walk with one of my friends. While we have had regular Zoom calls during this time, we haven’t seen each other in person. It felt beyond fantastic to be physically close to my good friend as we walked, talked, and looked at one another. And while it was a bit weird not to be able to hug, it was so joyful to be actually rather than virtually together. 

4. Sit in Different Chairs

I’ve found ways to experiment with new perspectives with so much time at home these past months. It’s not that I was bored, but I felt like shifting things around to see what would happen. We added a few new chairs to our outdoor collection, so we moved furniture around to integrate the pieces. We placed chairs where they had never been before, which encouraged us to sit in new locations. The change was surprising because the new placements had different views and feel. Now when I go outside, instead of sitting in the exact same spot, I like to move around to try out other positions. Oddly, these simple changes make me feel similar to being on vacation because they both bring about perspective shifts. 

5. Take the Less Traveled Path

I love walking in the woods and by the rivers. There are regular and favorite walks I take, like down the block or the path along the Hudson River. But there are other places I walk less frequently like a park several towns south of where I live. Over the weekend, my husband and I decided to go to the park we rarely visit. There were many changes from the last time we went there. I loved noticing and appreciating the differences. Our prior visit was in early spring when the daffodils were blooming, and the leaves on the trees were starting to green. This time, yellow flowers were gone, and the trees were so full that some of the trunks were hidden. There were birds and butterflies all around. I loved exploring the less familiar path with spectacular river views.

Time keeps moving, whether we’re having good days or tough ones. There are ways to make time for joy-filled moments. I’d love to hear your thoughts. What moments delight you? I invite you to join the conversation.

The world took one significant pause these past months with quarantines and stay-in-place orders. Each day we lived with a continually changing landscape, uncertainty, and stress. Some of us became ill, lost loved ones, or jobs. Some of us retreated and hoped that things would return to normal soon. Some of us did our best to keep it together because others relied on us to teach, lead, or comfort. We lost track of time and found it hard to remember which day it was. 

There have been inspired ways we’ve chosen to use our time, even with the hardships we’ve faced and difficulties we are still navigating. Because all of a sudden, we had time to spend in ways that we never expected. While there were the binge-watching-chocolate eating-no-showering days, we also crawled out from the covers to experiment. We created music, baked bread, knitted, made masks, gardened, wrote, invented, and delivered groceries to those in need. We Zoomed with loved ones near and far. We slowed down. From this pause and interruption, some of us found time to reflect and create. Some positive and unexpected outcomes emerged.

In recent posts, I’ve written about some of my calming and creative outlets like mindfulness meditation, yoga, walking, baking, writing, and photographing.  Something else surfaced for me during this time. Many of my friends are gardeners. I’ve always admired their ability to plant, nurture, and make things grow. I have vivid and happy memories of the few times in my life when I picked fresh fruit and vegetables. Yet in all these years, I convinced myself that I couldn’t grow stuff qualified by a host of good excuses. So, aside from one failed attempt at planting tomatoes over three decades ago, I never tried. How sad is that?

“This time of the pandemic has been fascinating because experimentation feels less scary.”

— Linda Samuels, CPO-CD®

This time of the pandemic has been fascinating because experimentation feels less scary. There is a feeling of “Why not?” or “Things are already so strange. What do I have to lose?” I noticed that my thoughts about gardening kept surfacing. My internal musings became impossible to ignore. So I began discussing with friends that I was thinking about making an edible garden. They were so encouraging and had many great ideas.

Now here’s where things got tricky. While I was thinking about all of the delicious vegetables I could plant, I started feeling overwhelmed. I wasn’t sure if it would work, if it would be too hard, or if I’d enjoy the work. I thought about the advice I share with overwhelmed clients when their organizing goals feel too big. Start small and build from there.

“I thought about the advice I share with overwhelmed clients when their organizing goals feel too big. Start small and build from there.”

— Linda Samuels, CPO-CD®

I took my own advice and decided to begin with a few herbs (and one tomato plant) to grow in our greenhouse. How hard could that be? It turns out that it wasn’t difficult at all. Not only that, but I loved digging in the dirt, arranging the plants, smelling their fresh scents, and watering them. I’m excited about my tiny, doable, not overwhelming garden. It might be a stretch to call it a garden, but I’m going to anyway.

I recognize that to some, especially the seasoned gardeners might think my story sounds ridiculous. Perhaps you’re thinking, “What’s the big deal? She just planted some herbs in a pot.” I get it. But to me, it represents getting over myself and being open to something that, for years, I convinced myself I couldn't do. I figured out how to create a garden on my terms. Perhaps it will stay small. Maybe the plants will die. However, this also might be the start of a new passion. Time will tell.

With so much destruction and strife in the world right now, it feels good to focus on growing and creating. Has the pandemic inspired you to use your time differently? Have you been experimenting more? I’d love to hear your thoughts. I invite you to join the conversation.

Spring is here in full force with new blooms appearing every day. Some blooms are in fact, weeds. These weeds can quickly overwhelm our garden. They crowd and strangle the plants we want to thrive.

Have you been decluttering and removing weeds from your garden? What have you noticed?

I’ve loved my outdoor time these last few weekends puttering and clearing the plant beds. I’ve gotten immense pleasure from working with my hands, digging in the dirt, pulling out the weeds, and creating clear, open space for growth.

Our personal environments are very much like our gardens. Our stuff can collect in piles, corners, closets and drawers. The piles seem to grow on their own, quickly and quietly taking over our spaces. Clutter can make it hard to think and move. The clutter in our home is like the weeds in our garden. It can prevent creativity, block growth, or zap our energy.

What would it feel like if you tended to your indoor garden and decluttered your weeds? What would less feel like? How would a clearer space (mental and physical) create possibilities for remarkable change?

I’d love to hear your thoughts. Come join the conversation!