Being in bed, the teeth have been cleaned and there’s that lingering minty freshness, and then, with a book in my lap, leaning over to the bedside table and taking a couple of sips from the glass that’s there, the glass that’s filled with newly poured, fridge-cold water.
Planting – it might only take a couple of minutes for the pot to be filled with soil, the plant to be eased out of its punnet or dug up from another part of the garden, and then for it to be patted down and watered, but the benefits last for days, weeks even, potentially whole lives.
Going for a drive while listening to a dusty old home-made mix CD and coming across a forgotten song. I experienced this yesterday when driving in the rain between here and Robertson (the home of the big potato, would you believe) – happy behind the steering wheel ‘Grace Under Pressure’ by Elbow came on. I had to reach for my hanky, let me tell you that (and stay clear of cars overtaking as if there was no tomorrow).
Absently – even aimlessly – walking down my hallway and catching a glimpse of my library. There’s nothing like it; it’s as warming as an open fire, as reassuring as an arm on the shoulder.
Riding down the street on my trusty treadly. I just love being on that thing, especially at the end of the day and the brain’s looking to empty. Hands on handlebars, riding gloves on hands, the sense of silence and stillness in the traffic, despite all the energy required and the movement.
These things that are ordinarily ecstatic. Yours?
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February 8, 2010 at 9:16+00:00Feb
Sarcastic Bastard
My many cats and dog make me happy just looking at them. The sun shining and lovely pink tulips also make me glad.
February 8, 2010 at 9:16+00:00Feb
Nigel
Hi SB, yeah, cats and dogs do have an uncanny way of making their owner smile, don’t they (though my cat also wants to make me tear my hair out). Cheers.
February 8, 2010 at 9:16+00:00Feb
screamish
warm sunshine after months of grey days
the faces of my girls when i go into their room to wake them up in the morning
visiting friends and being reminded at how good some people are, how some people are just models of how to be a good person
a smile and a heavy accented “bonjour” from an old arab man in the street, and we pass the time of day, for no other reason than we are going in the same direction
February 9, 2010 at 9:16+00:00Feb
Nigel Featherstone
Hi Screamish,
Re: ‘a smile and a heavy accented “bonjour” from an old arab man in the street, and we pass the time of day, for no other reason than we are going in the same direction’ – what perfect ordinary ecstasy! Thanks so much for sharing!
February 9, 2010 at 9:16+00:00Feb
itallstarted
Loved this post – there’s so much beauty in the everyday, and I think we all forget this sometimes.
Here are some of mine:
My nephew telling me the same jokes over and over again, and still finding them hilarious
The moment that I step outside for my early morning run, even though I had to abandon my warm bed to do it
Saying (puffing!) good morning to random strangers as I pass them on the footpath. An old man winking and lifting his hat to me as I run by.
That first swig of beer at the end of a 38 degree day (though I didn’t have beer tonight – I made do with gin!)
Driving along with my sisters, the windows down and the music loud, belting out the words to songs by 90s boy bands that I’m scared to mention for fear of damaging my (slightly less now!) music cred
Daffodils
February 9, 2010 at 9:16+00:00Feb
Nigel Featherstone
Hi Agnes, LOVED your response. Amazing that saying good morning to random strangers is one of the nicest though most ordinary things that can happen to us. I too was going to mention having a drink at the end of the day, especially while listening to a great album on vinyl, though a feared appearing like a total soak! And, yes, there’s nothing like singing in cars, though I can only do it while on my own. Thanks again for your wonderfully thoughtful response. Cheers, Nigel.
February 9, 2010 at 9:16+00:00Feb
itallstarted
Re the whole saying good morning to strangers thing – it’s weird how reluctant people are, in general, to even make eye contact with strangers on the street. I really don’t like doing it myself to be honest, I don’t know if it’s shyness or that we’ve all become distrustful (is that a word? not sure) of others or insular or something, but I find it quite difficult to look a stranger in the eye as I pass them by and I have to almost force myself to do it sometimes.
I feel bad when I don’t do it though – after all, what’s the worse thing that can happen? They don’t look back at you?
It wasn’t until I went overseas I think that I started doing this more often. I was just so thrilled to be in a foreign place that I couldn’t help but look at everything I passed, including the people, and I relished the conversations that I had with the locals, most of which started with a simple hello as I walked past them or entered a room or bought something from them.
Now I make sure that I look at people when I pass them because more often than not you’ll get a smile or a hello or at the very least, that strange little grimace that people do when they’re not sure why you’re looking at them, but they’re at least willing to acknowledge your existence. And it really is nice to share that moment with a stranger, a moment where you’re both treading in the same space and sharing the same air, even for the briefest of times.
And I’m rambling now, so I’ll leave, but I really did love this post and have a feeling that something relating to this might pop up over on my pages sometime over the next few days. Thanks for the inspiration Nigel!
And I meant to say earlier Screamish that I loved your image of the Arab man saying hello to you also. Lovely!
February 9, 2010 at 9:16+00:00Feb
Nigel Featherstone
Hi again Agnes, thanks heaps for your considered follow-up. Re. “And it really is nice to share that moment with a stranger, a moment where you’re both treading in the same space and sharing the same air, even for the briefest of times” – perhaps it’s during these moments when, despite all the evidence to the contrary, we can think that we’re not really alone?? And I’m very happy to hear that It All Started might feature something along the lines of ‘ordinary ecstasy’ – fan-bloody-tastic!
February 9, 2010 at 9:16+00:00Feb
The beauty in the everyday « It All Started With Carbon Monoxide
[…] over at Under The Counter wrote a wonderful post the other day about ‘things that are ordinarily ecstatic‘, like the minty freshness of just-brushed teeth and a long-forgotten song popping up […]
February 10, 2010 at 9:16+00:00Feb
NightSwimmer
Hmmm. Happy for Tea. Plants. Wind. the Moon. The deep eyes of everyone in my family, including the cats.
Thanks for the visit to my blog and good idea on the international quiet day. I’m in! This looks like a nice blog you’ve got. I’ll check back in. Cheers!
February 10, 2010 at 9:16+00:00Feb
Nigel Featherstone
Thanks for dropping by, NightSwimmer! Okay, so the International Day of Quiet (or should that be silence?): how do we make that happen?
February 16, 2010 at 9:16+00:00Feb
NightSwimmer
No clue.
February 11, 2010 at 9:16+00:00Feb
isaddictedtothemusic
easy – toast & marmalade
February 11, 2010 at 9:16+00:00Feb
Nigel Featherstone
Hi Addicted. You know, I think you’re right – there’s nothing better than a bit of toast and marmalade. A great piece of ordinary ecstasy!
February 12, 2010 at 9:16+00:00Feb
A Free Man
1. Kookaburras
2. Sea view from my balcony.
3. Van Morrison’s “Astral Weeks”
4. My son following me around like a shadow.
5. Cool jazz.
I’ve got loads more, but there’s five.
February 12, 2010 at 9:16+00:00Feb
Nigel Featherstone
Hi AFM, thanks for dropping by. I’m with you on kookaburras – apparently it’s about to rain over this way and they’re going for gold at the moment. I don’t have children, though if I had a son I’d like to think he’d follow me around like a shadow and that I’d find it ecstatic.
February 12, 2010 at 9:16+00:00Feb
bitconfused
I’d have to completely agree with Elbow!
My ordinary ecstasy-
Live gigs and cake!
Bhav x
February 12, 2010 at 9:16+00:00Feb
Nigel Featherstone
Hi Bhav, thanks for commenting. Yeah, Grace Under Pressure by Elbow is a fantastic song – a real classic. And I think if life was just live gigs and cake then I’d be one happy man…and perhaps the world would be one happy place. So cheers for that!
February 15, 2010 at 9:16+00:00Feb
urbanghost
rainy day, miles davis on the ipod, trench-coat and umbrella. Long walk through the city.
snowstorm. fireplace. scotch on the rocks. hockey night in canada, leafs vs. habs.
February 15, 2010 at 9:16+00:00Feb
Nigel Featherstone
Hi Urbanghost, I get the rainy day thing…and long walks in the city…and snowstorms…and fireplaces…and scotch. So cheers!
January 22, 2011 at 9:16+00:00Jan
On ecstasy « Under the counter or a flutter in the dovecot
[…] year I wrote a post about the ordinary type of ecstasy, those little moments of bliss, such as drinking a glass of freshly poured cold water in bed just […]