The real luxuries in life
Bc they're not designer handbags, that's for sure
Being unwell can feel like submerging yourself within water, looking out at the world as it continues to buzz, its colours muted, its sounds echoing as though from some faraway land. Your rhythms, your routines, the normal things that make up the hum of your daily life – the things you complain about to your friends on a Friday evening over bramble cocktails – these are the things you miss. Partly because you can’t complain about them to your friends over bramble cocktails on Friday nights. Which is all to say: I was sick, last week. And because I’m a writer, and also melodramatic, this meant two things: a) that I redrew my life according to what really matters and b) that I want to remember this feeling, when I’m buzzing and busy and complaining once again, so I’ve decided to write about it.
So, here we go: the real luxuries in life, from someone who is sentimental, and also really doesn’t like feeling under the weather.
Taking a long shower with a new body wash
Massage bars that smell of lavender and feel like relaxation
Candlelit spaces
A very ripe peach, cut into segments, on a sunny day
The sun
And sunflowers
And the way that sunflowers tip their head to the sun, and the thought that that’s kind of what humans do, too, when times are hard
A home that feels like safety, and also an embodiment of your personality, all mismatched prints and monstera plants and polaroid pictures and cat fur
A new album by your favourite artist
The feeling of anticipation before seeing your best friend
The feeling right after meditation: a mind at peace, lake-like
Vanilla lattes
Fresh manicures
The smell of paperbacks
Heated blankets and comfortable sofas and a new episode dropping right when you need it
Cheesy pasta with olive oil and tamari toasted sunflower seeds
Sushi
A really good hair mask
Taking a flight and having a whole row to yourself
The feeling of being immersed in a really good book
Being listened to
Iced buns
A really good night’s sleep
Having a nose that isn’t blocked
Taking off your bra
Relaxing into your bed after a long day
The thoughts you have on clifftop walks (this life is so small, so inconsequential, and you are free, and isn’t that wonderful?)
Planning a birthday present for someone you love so much that you fall asleep thinking about their reaction to it
The sound of butter melting in a pan
Voice notes that meander from books to gossip to little treats and back again
Feeling emotionally safe with someone you just met
Feeling emotionally safe, full stop
The smell of coffee, and fresh croissants
The existence of seasons, and how each one could be a work of art
The idea that no emotion, or physical sensation, is unique only to you
The feeling of being understood someone who is long dead, but whose words reach out to you and hold you and tell you that things are going to be okay, she just knows it, not in words, exactly, but between them – in the feelings they evoke
Sleepovers with friends in adulthood
Seeing babies emerge on sunny days, swaddled in soft materials, their tiny faces tilted to the light
The phrase: ‘shall we sit outside?’
The phrase: ‘omg, no, I feel like that too’
The phrase: ‘shall we plan a holiday?’
Long Sundays with toast and tea and books piled on random surfaces and meandering conversations about nothing with your mum, or your sister, or your oldest friend
Halloumi fries and aperol spritzes and good conversation
The fact that there are no rules, that this life is yours to live, and that you get to do remarkable things with it (swim in open lakes, eat chocolate at your desk, look up and see stars splashed across the night sky on your way home from the pub, cry, laugh, say ‘fuck it’ and move to Australia; watch a really good film for the first time; tell someone I love you; hear them say it back)
P. S.
If you are ill – in any way – I’m so sorry. It makes even the simplest things so hard, which - coupled with the very real possibility that you’re the only person you know who has your condition - can feel impossibly lonely. I hope you find comfort in these words, and compassion for yourself <3
P. P. S.
This post was inspired by this, which goes viral semi-regularly and with which I’m obsessed:
Saving this as a touchstone for when the going, inevitably, gets rough. Beautifully written Hannah! ✨
love how I was reading through this and picking out which luxury I relate to. Such a gorgeous post 💓