We were supposed to be at Mount Fuji in Japan today. That didn’t happen. We had scheduled spending Melinda’s birthday exploring Kyoto: wandering through temples, eating in little restaurants and drinking in closet-size bars, all down streets narrower than most alleys here.

Instead, we are dealing with the pandemic at home, and we appreciate the simpler, truer qualities of life. After the hard lockdown, I took my wife last week to her first restaurant outing in months. She was more excited about that little outing than she would have been at a kaiseki dinner.

You are living through this, too. You know the simple joys of the first tastes of reentering your normal life. Walking down a tree-covered avenue in the park. Relishing your first Tex-Mex meal in months. (I noticed Suzy Lemaster, a friend in Amarillo, bragging on Facebook about her and John’s trip for Tex-Mex this weekend). Melinda was giddy for her first margarita at Houston’s El Tiempo. Nothing special, but better to her after all this time locked up than a cup of sake.

What is better at any time than one of life’s simple pleasures — other than enjoying a simple pleasure you have long been without? Not much is needed for the simple life. Whether it’s looking out the window at happy people in the park, or the mouth-watering sensation of fresh, hot bread dripping with butter, or a retreat into oneself after a busy, hectic day of teleconferences, or fresh, plump blackberries in season, or staying up late with a page-turner by Sue Hawley, or the satisfaction of doing a good turn — these simple pleasures feel more rejuvenating than a million bucks in the bank.

As much as I’d have liked to, we don’t need to travel to Japan to feel good. We don’t need exotic locations. We have so much available to us right now, so many accessible and ordinary pleasures right here where we are.

The events of the world of late are a powerful reminder of this. Don’t ignore your simple pleasures.

Amor fati.