I keep swearing off my mini-epiphanies and then having another one. It’s become a bit of a cycle for me and if I’m at all self-honest, I recognize and don’t really attempt to stop the pattern. But I’ll also defend myself because ultimately isn’t understanding life what we’re all trying to do in the random years we get here on earth? And for me, the mini-epiphanies are that rare insight I get into my life. So, I’ll swear off ‘em again and then have another and another. But for today? Well, today I want to focus on the latest edition of my epiphanies.
Somehow, over the last few days and weeks, I’ve come to the realization that I am truly craving the slow burn of joy. As always, let me explain.
Last year, was “our year”. No ifs, ands, or buts about it, we had a fabulous year. I quit my job in February, we went to Antigua in March for our 10th anniversary and had the solar eclipse pass over our house in April so that we sat in our front yard and watched the moon turn the skies dark. That summer was fabulous – warm and sunny with beautiful days on end. We also had a spectacular fall and when that was over, the holiday season (which started for me with Halloween) was the absolute best of my life. No doubt about it, I was sad to see 2024 go. I hadn’t had that great of a year since, well, 2014 – the year we got married.
So, at nearly the mid-point of 2025, I was still feeling some of the letdown as a fabulous year melted into a regular year. It was a bit irrational, I know. First, I’m not sure that the year 2024 was truly a pre-designated timeslot for a seriously wonderful year of our lives; it just happened. Second, there was nothing really to say that the good times were indeed ending. Yes, it was a spectacularly difficult winter and maybe that was a harbinger of the year to come – i.e. a “letdown year” – but it’s not like scheduling a vacation. You don’t get to look at each decade and declare that a particular year is going to be your year. Further, I genuinely believe that every year should have its ups and downs, high points and low points, happy times and sad times. But let’s just say it aloud: along with winter and the slowdown in my business in January and February, it certainly felt like “our year” had come to an end.
It’s therefore not surprising that it took me until June to finally shake off the bad mojo. Particularly after we had a less than inspiring winter break in March and discovered carpenter ants in May. Also, with the specter of a looming large project – our back deck replacement – and the advent of a cold, wet late spring/early summer, it did feel like the cards were stacked against us.
Thankfully, this is where the mini-epiphany struck me: not only do I not want to have spectacular years each and every year (lest they become commonplace), but I also may more prefer the slow burn of everyday joy. That is exactly what the rest of this year portends. More than that, while I always knew that last year’s episodes of pure incredibleness were unsustainable, I further know that this year’s quiet burn could last decades. Finally, the piece de resistance of this particular realization is that I can enjoy this joy as an everyday kind of happiness but still look forward to periods of incredible happiness – a moment, month or year – into the future. It turns out that the slow burn of joy is not mutually exclusive to fabulous periods of happiness. And man… that is some pretty heady stuff.
With that mini-epiphany now in my pocket, I have a new, settled feeling about life, those I love and this year. Finally, I can let go of the letdown from last year and just enjoy the year that is. More than that, I am so looking forward to embracing the slow burn of joy and letting it permeate our lives. From the mundane of “Meeting Monday” with 5-6 zoom calls on my calendar to the quiet celebration of the weekend on Friday nights with a cocktail and good conversation, the slow burn beckons. It invites me in with work weekends, when we get dirty, work our hearts out on the deck and fall into bed Sunday night exhausted to the quiet weekday afternoon in the sunshine picking cherries with my sister. I look forward to kitty snuggles (some of my favorite things in the world), along with great conversations with friends and moments I’m so grateful that I got to experience them that I will cherish them forever. My point? Nothing fabulous or out of the ordinary needs to happen this year for it to be a “good year”. Instead, it just needs to be and I just need to lean into my life with a grateful heart.
And you know what? Knowing that I just need to trust my grateful heart to experience years of joy without end is incredibly empowering and comforting.
The Yuppie Homesteader 