Coziness, community, and Zoom-able magnetism
3 Small Items of Great Delight | December 19, 2024
Today, when I opened Facebook, forest animals dressed in overcoats flew upward under my thumbs. I stopped and scrolled back to the illustration. Badgers ad foxes and field mice were dressed in human clothing, caps ‘n’ all, gathered to sing Christmas carols.
For a split second, I had seen Heather’s name above the image. It’s this time of year when she comes to mind, when her handmade or hand-personalized cards arrived in the mail, when her delight in the season was a certainty.
Heather was an inspiration this feature of my newsletter, one of two humans, both artists, who helped me understand that we cannot simply set aside our delights--these small joys don’t last, and they deserve to be recognized, celebrated, and held up for inspection and comment. What gladdens us is worthy of transubstantiation into art. So I write. This is what we can offer back to the universe.
3 Small Items of Great Delight
Winter Parkas
We had a pleasing layer of snow last week, and the temperature was just cold enough to feel fresh. The clouds parted to sunshine. My evening walks with the dog were finally brighter thanks to the reflection of the snow under the streetlamps.
But then, rain. So much rain.
The rain arrived last weekend and stole the magic. The snow melted and puddled. My son got a reprieve from my nagging to wear winter boots, because sneakers were suddenly reasonable again.
Yesterday, it turned cold and wickedly windy. The windows rattled, and my feet wouldn’t warm. I added a sweater and pulled a blanket over me.
I did not welcome the prospect of dog-walking after dinner. I sipped my post-prandial cup of tea slowly, holding the warm mug against my face, procrastinating. I allowed another episode of the crime drama to run through to its end.
When I couldn’t avoid it any longer, I rose. The wind was howling. I dragged my feet. My lightweight jackets would not do today.
Oh! I suddenly remembered the parka I bought at a sale in the early fall. Double-zippered and hooded, it could withstand the worst of this night.
When I bought it, I loved the colour. A bright yellow, it made a statement against the somber-coloured winterwear that fills the stores. With some encouragement from my shopping partner, I bought it. It would defend against the darkness of the season.
Now, I pulled it out from the closet. It is heavy, built for Canadian winters. Our winter will be short this year, but I still hope for the deep snows and mild temperatures of February, and I cross my fingers that the skating paths can open.
I love winter wear. I have many coats—always just enough—and multiple hats. I only wear mitts; the knitted ones are always the warmest.
Finally zipped up and booted, I added a toque. The dog led the way down the dark sidewalk. The gusts stole my breath for a moment, and the dog pinned her ears back. Then we quickened our steps and set out. The wind howled, but safe in my parka, I laughed at it. Winter reminds me I am alive.
2. Chocolate Rewards
I love chocolate. I’ll never say no to it. It isn’t my weakness, yet I will work for it. I have an advent calendar beside my desk, and I use it to reward myself for good behaviour during the work day. If I check off that to-do item I am most likely to ignore, I can open another little door on the calendar and claim my treat.1
On my weekly to-do list I usually add the names of people I haven’t connected with recently. So few people reach out these days with phone calls and visits. I want to make sure people know they are important to me.
A week goes by fast, though. Suddenly, it is Saturday and my week is over and half of my to-do list remains unchecked. Daily urgencies replace well-meaning plans. Still, I try to make connection a habit. I book coffee with friends after I drop off my son at basketball, send a text message when I break from work.
That’s why I love the campaign Purdy Chocolatier is currently running. Using my motivator of choice, the company is rewarding people who reach out and reconnect with people over the holiday season. With a spin of the wheel, Reconnect Roulette gives you a prompt. Reach out to ‘a family friend from childhood,’ ‘the very first person on your contact list,’ ‘your favourite roommate.’ Send a text, then claim your chocolate. Brilliant. Beautiful. It was an easy yes.
I spun the wheel, and it suggested I reach out to an old neighbour by text. A friend had already come to mind earlier in the week, a lovely soul who moved to the other side of the city some years back. She always shows up with a smile. When we would go for a walk around town, she’d show up no matter the weather, in full rain gear or bundled up in snowpants, coat, hat and scarf. I sent my message to her and said hello, sparking a brief interchange. It felt good.
I picked up my chocolate reward this week from Purdys. What fun. The chocolate is a reward, but so is the result.
Reconnect Roulette runs until December 25. Try it. You won’t regret it. And the chocolate is good, too!
The Attraction of Magnetic People
Three years ago, I responded to an ad for a fitness class. I was not sure what it would be, but the first class was free, it was on Zoom, and the instructor looked like a regular woman.
She wasn’t.
Antonietta, the owner of abotti Fitness, is anything but a regular woman. When I joined her low-impact aerobics class on Zoom in October 2020, I didn’t know her magnetic pull. She is one of those people who attracts others. People gravitate towards her. Today, in her final class, there were eight-one participants. Have you ever attended an aerobics class with eighty others?
I’ve met people with this gravitational pull before. An artist I knew years ago would enter the building and within moments be surrounded by all of us in minutes. We couldn’t help it. She brought joy. We moved towards her.
That’s what Antonietta does, and she imbues her classes with it. It’s what convinces participants to join her in whatever she suggests. She has convinced people of all ages and abilities to say yes where otherwise they would not. MudGirl Run? A week in Mexico? A video for Neil Diamond? Birthday hats? Cowboy hats? Line dancing? People say yes when we suggests it. Earlier this year, she travelled with 23 other women to Africa to climb Mount Kilimanjaro. She asked, and they said yes.
Look, I don’t find exercise easy. My body doesn’t run on metabolism that encourages a lot of activity. Joining an aerobics class was a big deal for me. I didn’t think I’d last. But after working at home for six months, my body was aching. I needed to move.
Immediately, I saw there was something special about this class. Yes, we were on Zoom but there was a community, there was joy, even glee, and it was being fostered by this woman with fiery red hair. She doesn’t just talk about being inclusive, she practices it; I’m in my late forties, and I am below the median age of participants, I’m sure.
Antonietta has an energy that crosses the threshold of my laptop screen and gets me moving. Monday to Friday, each week, my mood is lifted by showing up.
Thanks to Antonietta, I got up from my desk and got moving close to six hundred times over the last three years.
Let me write that in numeral to really see it: 600.
That’s 18,000 minutes I would have spent sitting.
I have never committed to any fitness class for so long. Monday to Friday at 9:57 a.m., I would unplug from my work, tie up my laces, and log on to join the abotti community in joyful, delightful movement.
My friends asks me if I’m part of a cult. “If I am,” I reply, “then it’s a good one!”
Our classes end today. Antonietta is moving on, forging a new path into new purposeful work.
I’m bereft in the face of this loss, even though I know she will be inviting us to follow her. She’s built a community that has learned to say yes to wellness and kindness and hope.
Here’s to the people who delight us so much we say yes to laughter and good health and connection. Yes.
What brought you delight this week? What deserves to be held up to the light and examined? What made you feel alive? Add yours to the comments.
Katy Milkman, author of How to Change: The Science of Getting from Where You Are to Where You Want to Be, would categorize my reward system as the Mary Poppins method. I am making “goal pursuit…instantly gratifying by adding ‘an element of fun’.” In other words, I am taking my medicine with a spoonful of sugar. According to Milkman, this is how I can overcome my present bias. The trick, I learned, is to withhold the temptation until I reach my goal. If I allow myself to open another little door on the advent calendar without doing the work I need to do, I am sabotaging myself. If I make myself wait for the treat, I will eventually build good habits.