Finding Delight Was Hard This Week :(

An honest admission and three antidotes for the chaos.

This past week has been heavy.

The anxieties swirling around our world seem to have settled right into my bones. My heart aches for those who bear the daily terror of state violence. I feel a quiet fear gnawing at the edges of my own rights. It’s taken more than a few deep, grounding breaths to reel my energy back in and remind myself where I stand.

I’ve had to fight the urge to bury myself in work—just for the fleeting comfort of distraction.

Honestly, I’m not sure why I expected anything different.

That’s part of why I chose “delight” as my theme for 2025—a simple but mighty intention to weave more wonder into my everyday life. I didn’t want a mere escape; I hoped that focusing on delight would keep me rooted in the truth that there’s still goodness in the world, if only I’d slow down to notice.

Looking back, though, I realize I’ve missed plenty of chances for delight.

😔

More often than I care to admit, anxiety, fear, and heartache hijacked my focus. But missing many moments doesn’t mean missing them all. In fact, I’m sitting here, writing this piece with a sense of lightness—even amid the chaos—because I did manage to catch a few glimpses of joy and wonder.

And I’d love to share those moments with you.

Discovering the Cat, Mouse, and Dog Shenanigans

When I first moved into this rental, I had no idea I’d be inheriting a top-notch (and free!) pest control team. A diverse community of neighborhood cats prowls our street every night, keeping the local mice on their toes.

I’m definitely not complaining—it’s one of those perks I never knew I needed.

Helix and Poppy, on the other hand, aren’t exactly thrilled about these feline patrols.

At night, they lurk by the sliding glass door, waiting for me to open it so they can bolt into the yard, certain a cat is hiding there. They’ve only guessed right twice this winter (no cats were harmed in the making of this article!), but their determination never wavers. Helix might be a Weimaraner, but the “discount” part of his adoption fee seems to have included his hunting instincts, too.

When I finally decided to do some investigating of my own, I discovered quite the mouse hideout.

Apparently, these little rodents weren’t trying to be discreet at all. It suddenly made perfect sense why the cats picked this spot for nightly stakeouts: the mice scamper through the field on their foraging missions, the cats lie in wait… and then Helix and Poppy barrel out, unknowingly derailing everyone’s carefully choreographed routine.

I had no idea such a dramatic game of cat and mouse (and dog) was unfolding practically under my nose. But there was something oddly comforting in that discovery. My shoulders dropped, my heart felt a little lighter, and I couldn’t help but laugh at how my dogs keep foiling this elaborate, natural ritual. It was just the reminder I needed to let my curiosity roam free—and to notice the small wonders happening in my own backyard.

The Dancing Squirrel and an Unexpected Connection

I was taking a photo for an article at a park. The light seemed perfect to capture a few more snapshots–I was already here right?

I walked around, hunting for something—anything—that made my heart skip a beat.

And then I spotted him: a squirrel that seemed to have forgotten all about gravity.

He hopped from branch to branch with such flair, like he was rehearsing for the woodland Olympics. Without meaning to, I found myself grinning, and I took a seat, the way I was supposed to.

A moment later, an older gentleman settled beside me on the bench. His ears and nose looked rosy from the cold, and he caught me mid-laugh as the squirrel somersaulted onto a lower branch.

“Now, this is a show,” I said, pointing toward our furry entertainer.

He chuckled, nodding. “I’m here on doctor’s orders—supposed to walk every afternoon,” he admitted. “Used to drag my feet, until I noticed this little acrobat. Been coming back every day since.”

I raised my eyebrows, impressed. “Every day?” I asked.

“Yep,” he said. “And every day, this squirrel puts on the same routine, like he’s reminding me there’s still plenty to smile about.”

We sat in companionable silence as the squirrel wrapped up his grand finale. One last flip, a quick scamper up the trunk, and then—like he knew he had our full attention—he froze, stood tall, and twitched his tail in a way that felt suspiciously like a bow.

I turned to my bench-mate, still grinning. “I honestly wasn’t expecting this kind of performance when I left my house,” I confessed.

He laughed, the sound carrying through the cold air. “That’s the secret, isn’t it?” he said. “I spent my entire life always on the go. Now all I got in me is walking around the park and watching squirrels. I like my life now.”

He checked his watch, sighed, and stood. “I’d better get home,” he said, extending his hand. We shook, and his grip felt warm despite the frigid weather. “Until tomorrow,” he joked, before heading off.

And just like that, I was alone again—just me, the park, and that quiet hush after a truly great show.

I realized then that it only took one dancing squirrel and one stranger willing to share a bench to remind me how much delight can be tucked into the simplest moments. Sometimes, the best wonders find us when we’re not even looking—all we need to do is pause, watch the performance, and let a little magic in.

The Stained Glass Latte

“Get it,” they insisted.

I groaned inwardly—was I really about to drop thirteen dollars on a latte? Apparently so. Carpe diem, right?

I went ahead and ordered, already feeling a pinch of buyer’s remorse. Seriously, what could possibly justify that price tag?

Then the waiter arrived, a mischievous smile dancing on his face. “Alright,” he said, “close your eyes.” I humored him, figuring I was about to see a dainty little flower design.

“Open them!”

I did—and my jaw nearly hit the table. Perched atop my latte foam was a spectacular stained glass creation, bright and detailed enough to rival a cathedral window. I just stared, speechless—something that doesn’t happen often for me.

And the taste? Oh, it lived up to the artwork. Velvety texture, rich flavor, a subtle note of brown sugar that tied it all together. Pure delight in a mug.

I finally surfaced from my awe to notice that several minutes had passed since this masterpiece landed in front of me.

“It’s worth it,” I heard myself say out loud.

And you know what? It really was.

Finding Delight Even in the Chaos

Looking back on the comedic standoffs between cats, dogs, and mice, the unassuming grace of a dancing squirrel, and a mesmerizing latte that tasted like pure magic—I’m struck by how delight can flourish in the most unexpected places.

Even when the world seems heavier than ever, these tiny encounters remind us that a spark of wonder is always within reach if we remember to slow down and notice.

So here’s my challenge to you: Where might delight be hiding in your life right now?

Maybe it’s in the swirl of a steaming cup of coffee, a laugh shared with a stranger, or a quiet moment spent watching nature put on a free show.

If a memory surfaces—or if one pops up in the coming days—please share it below.

Because sometimes, sharing our small, joyful discoveries reminds us all that hope can thrive in the everyday, and that when we dare to seek delight amid the chaos, we just might find it’s been waiting for us all along.

Lokah Samastah Sukhino Bhavantu

May all beings everywhere be happy and free, and may the thoughts, words, and actions of my own life contribute in some way to that happiness and to that freedom for all.

About Alex

I’m equal parts old soul and curious wanderer, a farmer boy at heart, and a writer whenever I can corral my ADHD. Ultimately, I write for those who crave rest in a world that never pauses.

As a political psychologist, yoga therapist, and integrative coach—anchored by both research and lived experience—I delve into questions of identity, connection, and wholeness, which are the foundation of my Substack publication, Life as I See It.

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