Unappreciated joys of life

I think everyone has a mental list of things they have to do in life (I don't like the phrase "before you die", as it sounds much too apocalyptic) and they all contain vaguely similar things; skydive, travel, see exotic animals in their natural habitat, etc, etc. I even have mine written down, just so I can have the geeky pleasure of crossing things off. It makes me feel like I'm getting somewhere.

This is all well and good, but I really think that it's the unexpected, unplanned events that end up being the most pleasurable and significant amidst your usual routine.

Take my trip to Thailand for example. The cooking course, the ladyboy show, the Full Moon Party: these things were all planned beforehand, and they were as awesome as I expected them to be (although I could use many other terms to describe the Full Moon Party, but that's another story). Yet nothing could have prepared me for spending a night watching The Next Karate Kid and sharing Johnnie Walker Red Label in the middle of a monsoon-soaked jungle with a group of young Thai guys, surrounded by the chorus of bullfrogs just beyond our seats, and the spontaneity of this event made it so much more memorable.

It's not just holidays; every day life is the same. We look forward to the weekends when we can have huge blowouts, or events we've had planned for months. We plan so much, in fact, that we forget to let the gloriously random things just happen.

Thankfully life sometimes takes over and forces things to occur.

Last Saturday, we participated in Earth Hour. In case you weren't aware, you were meant to turn off all the lights and electrical appliances in your house in the name of climate change. I found myself home alone for the start of it, and wandered out onto our wicked deck with a cup of tea and a candle. I was struck by how serene it was out there, looking out on to the dimmed skyline with the soft breeze chilling you a little. I stayed there with a book until Tom and Lou got home, and then we all hung out in that softly-lit oasis of calm, chatting about things that normally get lost in the haze of technology inside. It was beautiful.

Another randomly brilliant event that's happily occured twice now is midnight cake and tea. There are approximately a million coffee shops in downtown Toronto, and almost all of them sell cake. However, when you or your friends are peckish and restless on a Sunday evening, the vast majority of them are closed. Java House on Queen West is one of the few that stays open, and they happen to have some of the tastiest cake I've ever stuck a fork in. You wouldn't think it, but chatting and devouring the sugary goodness with a brew in your hand at that time of night is about the most deliciously scrumptious things ever, and feels vaguely like a scene from an indie movie.

The most banal-sounding things can become amazing when you just go with the flow. I recommend it to all.