wasn’t the most natural decision. That’s why I chose to put the decision on autopilot; otherwise, I’d wear myself out debating every time I went to the store. Now I just plop them into my cart, no decision required. It costs less than five dollars (although the daffodils I bought this morning were just a dollar fifty), and it makes me really, really happy.
Other people live out this strategy in ways that suit their predilections. When I was in college, I babysat regularly for a nearby family and was fascinated by the way the mom kept the kitchen in order. Tracy wasn’t terribly domestic, as she put it, but she did love to cook and called her kitchen her “happy place.” When I would arrive at her home after my morning classes, the kids had usually just gone down for their naps, and I’d walk in while she was tidying up her kitchen. She always finished by wiping down the island, then choosing a giant jar candle from her stash under the sink and lighting it. The flickering candle made the kitchen feel snug and welcoming, something I appreciated during the dreary Chicago winters.
Once I sat on a stool at the island, chatting with her as she went through her routine. “I love those candles,” I told her as she struck a match. “I’m glad,” she said, and then she told me she used to feel bad about lighting them. They were nice candles, and she used to think she should wait for a special occasion to burn them. I asked her what had changed.
“I got over it,” she said. “I decided I’d just light them anyway. I really like them, you know? They make me weirdly happy, considering how small a thing a candle is. So I decided I’d light them, all the time.”
I’m glad Tracy was able to embrace an abundance mindset and overcome her impulse to save the candles for “special” occasions.
Look for Ways to Add Joy to Your Days
Simple abundance is a frame of mind, not something you can buy; that feeling of plenty doesn’t even have to carry a price tag. It can be a time-out during the day to read a novel, or sit and relax on the porch with a cup of tea, or stop to notice your neighbor’s flowers. What a gift it is to give ourselves permission to enjoy these little moments.
One place I’ve learned to practice an abundance mindset is out on the road, when I’m behind the wheel.
To illustrate, here’s a story. Once upon a time, I lived in the Chicago suburbs. Will and I thought long and hard about settling down in the Windy City after we got married.
We didn’t. The cost of living and the brutal Chicago winters nudged us south, but a crucial third factor in my pro/con list was Roosevelt Road—a wide, strip mall–lined artery through Chicago’s western suburbs that I navigated regularly and hated with the fire of a thousand suns. Or, perhaps, the fire of a thousand exhaust-spewing engines. I resented every minute I spent on that road, even if it was the fastest way to reach my destination.
We ended up back in Louisville, where one particular road reminds me more and more of that dreaded Chicago thoroughfare with every passing year. (For the locals: Shelbyville Road. Cringe.)
I drove that road almost daily for years, until one day, undone by the weight of the burgeoning cell phone stores, car dealerships, vast concrete parking lots, stoplights, and yet another Walgreens, I had a revelation: I could take the long way home. I stopped driving the soul-sucking road that day. It’s been five years, and I haven’t looked back.
I used to overthink whether driving a little bit out of my way to find a more emotionally pleasant route was “worth it.” Not anymore. I decided once, and I live by that decision every time I get in the car. Unless my destination is actually on that horrible road—which would make traveling it essential—I don’t drive on it. Time and gas are valuable resources, but so are my mental energy, my (generally) chipper attitude, and my patience with endless concrete landscapes. When time is short, I go the fast way, even if it’s ugly. But if I have the three minutes to spare, I no longer feel bad about choosing the long way, because traveling a short distance—sometimes just three blocks!—out of my way to prioritize beauty over speed is a small change that makes me