No doubt about it, these are dark days. I’m writing this from the west of Scotland, where at this time of year there are only brief glimmers of daylight before twilight descends again. Then, of course, there is the metaphorical darkness of current news events, inescapable wherever you live.
I was feeling pretty bleak about this whole being-a-human-in-2024 thing until I read about an intriguing idea from Catherine Price in the New York Times. She writes about the American poet Ross Gay and his essay collection The Book of Delights, in which he challenges himself each day to document one frivolous, quirky or downright strange thing that provokes joy. Conducted over the course of a year, it’s a gloriously unpredictable compendium of observations and celebrations of a life lived with full attention.
Now, I can already imagine some of you giving me side-eye, objecting to the Pollyanna vibe of what sounds like gratitude-journalling by stealth. But Gay’s “delight practice” is a long way from toxic positivity – the notion of forced optimism. He describes his life as: “Not without sorrow, or fear, or pain or loss. But more full of delight.” His vignettes include tender tributes to a friend who received a leukaemia diagnosis, smuggling cuttings from fig trees on to a plane and the unexpected thrill of spotting someone wearing a slogan T-shirt reading: “Make it scary to be a racist again.”
Whereas gratitude lists tend to feature the same recurring items, delight is all about revelling in tiny novelties – nothing is too transient or silly for inclusion. Gay celebrates writing by hand, a mini doberman pinscher wearing pink booties, De La Soul and effusively greeting his uncle Earl on a plane (only to discover it was a different person). Every time he mentions a new joyful thing, he writes “Delight!” in brackets after the word. Price’s own delight practice, inspired by Gay’s work, involves not only identifying the delight, but labelling it so, out loud. “I point a finger at the thing in question – or, if it is not a physical ‘thing’, I raise a finger in the air – and announce, out loud and enthusiastically: ‘Delight!’” she writes in her book The Power of Fun.
This act of “savouring” has been identified by psychologists as a way to boost happiness levels, especially if you label such experiences and share them with others. American psychologist Sonja Lyubomirsky has been researching the benefits of “intentional positive activities”, particularly the idea of savouring, for many years. In her book The How of Happiness, she observes that, while positive-psychology experts usually focus on living in the present, dwelling on the past and future can also enhance your levels of joy. “Both involve ways of heightening and preserving pleasure, bringing the pleasure of the past and future into the present moment.” I find this a comforting idea – that when there is nothing especially delightful happening right now, I can always reminisce about an amazing trip to New York or anticipate a great party later this year.
I decided to start by thinking about the past few days and jotting down a list of simple things that had already made me smile. Top of the list was Saturday morning, waking up to a blanket of snow, a tall fir tree with Christmas cake icing, fat flakes fluttering from the sky. Added to the list, a silly movie, Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget, new tartan flannel pyjamas, retrieving a lost sock and a furry hot-water bottle. Then, on New Year’s Day, we went to visit childhood family friends (Delight!). The sky was blue (Delight!). My late mother’s best friend had made all of our old favourites – sherry truffles, marshmallow “top hats”, Mars bar Rice Krispies squares (Delight! Delight! Delight!).
The next day it is pouring with rain. Do I rush outside pointing towards the heavens and shouting: “Delight!”? I’m afraid that I do not (because people might assume that I was still drunk from Hogmanay). However, I do remember that I have a new umbrella, black emblazoned with tiny gold bumblebees. “Delight!” I whisper, removing it from my bag. “Delight, delight, delight,” I murmur in time to the raindrops. Maybe spring isn’t so far off after all.
• Anita Chaudhuri is a freelance journalist and photographer
Do you have an opinion on the issues raised in this article? If you would like to submit a response of up to 300 words by email to be considered for publication in our letters section, please click here.
