There are days when the world feels a little too loud and a little too busy explaining itself.
On those days, it helps to remember that not everything needs fixing, debating, improving, or shouting about. Some things are already doing their job just fine. They have been for a long time. They simply carry on, quietly, without asking for applause.
So here — for no particular reason other than it felt like a good moment — is a short list of things that are still just plain good.
Not perfect.
Not flashy.
Just . . . . good.
A fresh cup of coffee that tastes exactly the way you hoped it would.
Not better than expected. Not worse. Just right. The kind that lets you take a slow sip and think . . . . “Yes. That’ll do.”
A handwritten note.
Even a short one. Even a crooked one. The kind where you can tell the writer paused for a moment before finishing the sentence.
A dog asleep in the sun.
No ambition. No agenda. Just fully committed to a relaxing nap in the afternoon.
A cat choosing to sit near you.
Not because it was asked. Because it decided. Which somehow makes it feel like a small honour.
A well-worn book that falls open to a favourite page.
Like it remembers where you left off last time — and waited there for you.
The sound of someone laughing in the next room.
Especially when you do not know the joke, and it does not matter.
The sound of children laughing and playing.
Inside or outside. Close by or down the street. It always reminds us that things are going right somewhere.
A front porch — or whatever serves as one.
A chair by a window counts. So does a stoop. A step. Or the edge of a bed where you linger for a moment longer than planned.
Kindness that does not announce itself.
No trumpet. No explanation. Just a small adjustment or touch made for someone else’s comfort.
Old sayings that still manage to be true.
The kind you used to roll your eyes at — until one day you catch yourself repeating them.
Something that works the way it always has.
A lamp. A watch. A sunrise. There is a quiet relief in reliability, and in knowing some things still arrive on time..
And for me, a rainy afternoon with a new story waiting to be told.
Nothing urgent. Nothing polished yet. Just the promise of words finding their way.
But then again . . . . the feeling that today does not need to be extraordinary to be worthwhile.
Ordinary will do just fine.
None of these things will trend.
None of them will fix everything.
But taken together, they do something better.
They remind us that simple goodness has not gone anywhere. It has simply stayed where it always was — in familiar places, doing familiar work, waiting to be noticed again.
And perhaps that is just plain good enough for today, isn’t it?
What might you add to the list?
‘Til next time, then — Jim (and Red!)
P.S.
Little Red Bear read this list over my shoulder and cleared his throat — politely — to point out that tea belongs on any list of good things worth keeping close.
He is not wrong. We are, after all, tea people.
“The Adventures of Little Red Bear: The First Holler!”
These illustrations were created with the assistance of AI.
week, and unless something surprising jumps into the mix, the forecast calls for an extended period of gorgeous Autumn weather. Sweaters in the mornings and evenings, and shirt-sleeves during the day. So nice!
house came outside. Complementing her on the amazing birdhouse, she revealed she had found it on Amazon in the springtime. No birds had taken up residence in it all summer, but she liked it as an ornament anyway, so had left it hanging.
James Milson - The Writing Pages 