Tiny Happy Moments

Happy New Year! What did you get up to? Did you watch fireworks on the Thames? Did you throw a wild police-provoking house party? Did you sit in your pants watching Jools Holland's Hootenany!? Whatever you did, I hope it was fun. And if it wasn't fun, I at least hope you were awake to see 2011 come out to play.

It's terribly predictable to spend the 1st of January thinking about the year that's passed. But as a terribly predictable person, this is exactly what I've spent my day doing. I've thought about moving home, starting a new job, the parties, the friends and the family I've shared some bloody great times with. I thought about the angst and the stress of all the change that's happened and how it's all turned out marvellously in the end. I've thought about all the things I should have done differently, the mistakes I've made and the opportunities I've missed. But all in all when I look back at 2010 I can say "that was a mighty fine year."

I've also, obviously, predictably, boringly, been thinking of the year ahead and I've been stuck on something that my boss said to me when sitting in the pub. I wish I didn't find most of wisdom in pubs or drunken evenings, but hey ho - dems the breaks.

Him and his girlfriend had been to visit their best friend at a commune in South Wales where the best friend had lived with his family for a few years. Even though my boss had only gone for a weekend he came back a chilled-out, happier version of his already chilled-out, happy self. We all listened, cloudy cold cider in hand and log fire crackling away by the side of us, as he talked about the silence, the peace, the elephant that made up his weekend. (That's right - an actual arsing elephant!)

But best of all, he told us about a lesson the best friend had tried to teach him - to learn how to enjoy the moment. It sounds so simple, but he meant REALLY enjoy the moment. Even the most ordinary, mundane, every day moment. "Like now," he said gesturing around the table at his five tipsy employees. "We're here with friends, healthy and happy. Drinking cider in a warm pub on a Friday night." He spoke with such conviction that I can remember every aspect of that moment. The heat from the fire that melted the right hand side of my body, how cold the glass felt in my hand, how we all softly murmoured in agreement that we should all try to live our lives that way.

I shared this story with my flat mate a few weeks later on Christmas Eve, Eve as - once again - we sat in a pub, Jack Daniels in hand, ready to say goodbye to each other until New Years Eve. I shared with him the idea that we should take time out to be grateful for the tiny happy moments which make up our years, which make up our lives. "Like now," I said, gesturing around the table at my flatmate who looked bemused as to why I was gesturing so grandly. "We're happy, we're healthy, and it's almost Christmas. We've got a glass of something merry in our hands and we're sharing this moment with a really great friend". And I can remember everything about that moment too. The sound of happy conversations from all round the room, the smell of food from nearby tables, the look in my flatmates eyes which suggested he thought I was being drunk rather than profound.

So for this year, for the first year in ages, I'm not going to regret which New Years resolutions I did, or didn't, acheieve this year. I'm only going to have one New Years resolution and that's to enjoy the tiny happy moments.

And to have bloomin' hundreds and thousands of them in 2011.

Love, as always,

Jenni