r/BenignExistence

Walked out onto my back patio to have a little piece of quiet while dinner's in the oven cooking itself. Dead end street, surrounded by woods, the only usual interruption in the sound of birdsong is the overhead flights from the nearby airport going by.

New neighbor next door, a single mom was four children aged 6 to 14. A newly donated trampoline in the backyard. As I step out back I hear one of the middle girls teaching the youngest boy a cheer while they jump on the trampoline.

I'm not sure why. I stopped and had the biggest smile on my face and watched them for a minute jumping and cheering.

I, 57/F, have never had children - which I'm okay with. I'm perfectly happily married, with our brick home and our vegetable gardens and flower beds and our one cat. But I swear I was levitating an inch off the ground for a minute at that musical happy sound of children.

I was grocery shopping, in line at the cashier with my food on the belt. The guy ahead of me was having his items scanned and the cashier clocked the multiple cans of coconut milk and asked what he was planning on cooking with it. He said mulligatawny and then that led to them chatting about their own preferred recipes; he likes to add pineapple and mango to his.

I chaperoned for my daughter’s field trip recently (4th grade) and was surprised to see how physically affectionate many of the boys were with their pals. Walking side by side with arms touching, draping arms over one another’s shoulders, linking arms while walking together. The boys that I grew up with were very deliberate to not physically touch one another in fear of judgement. Newer generations seem to be more apt to embrace appreciation for platonic physical touch and I think it’s excellent for the wellbeing of humankind.

Hubby and I usually wake up at around 5 am or so and do our own thing for about an hour and a half before getting ourselves sorted for breakfast.

I was doing some journaling with some jazz oldies in the background, and "On the Street Where You Live" came on. Maybe it was the music, maybe it was the birds and the slightly cooler weather.

I popped over to his office and demanded a Dance Break, and he closed his windows, stood up, and took me in his arms.

It was a lovely way to start the day.

They bring so much joy when I see them come back every year. The lake I live on finally is melting out and I saw both this morning! The swans swimming around, just two so far. Then the cranes and a little baby crane walking thru my driveway! I love seeing them so much.

Rainy day and I'm hanging out reading things and awaiting a computer thing to finish (weak pun intended).

Max the cat is feeling kneady. I must be a doughboy.

The metal roof is singing in the shower.

Now I have a cat blanket on my legs.

He's having a nap and I'm watching the baby monitor. He just sat up, carefully repositioned his toy lamb, curled up facing it and went back to sleep.

I was on a plane, and they were handing out the in flight snacks/drinks. The woman next to me got a coke. I've gotten an apple juice since I was young, and this was no exception. The woman stops the stewardess right as she's about to leave and asks to make a different choice because she didn't know they had juice. Her coke was replaced with a cup of cran-apple juice, and we shared a brief moment of shared enjoyment of juice

Our 12ish year old rescue pug/chihuahua mix is very clever but very anxious. After our move to this house a few years ago he switched from a full access doggie door to having to request going out.

He taught himself to stare at us or stand at the sliders! Never an accident.

The Shorthand ~ I’ll ask if he wants out and he says no with his face. Ok. Lots of dogs do that.

But when he’s out and I ask him to come back in he looks at me in a way that we agree he can stay out. No defiance. No one getting upset. Just one geriatric to another agreeing to live and let live the way they want lol

I woke up today, looked in the mirror, and realized something deeply unsettling: I have absolutely no idea who I actually am.
For my whole life, I’ve defined myself by my resume, my habits, my appearance, and that relentless inner monologue that never shuts up. But lately, the math just isn't mathing.
If you dive into basically any major spiritual tradition, they all point to the exact same mind-bending truth: you are not your body, and you are not your mind.
Think about it. Your body is constantly changing, replacing cells, and aging. Your mind is just a chaotic radio station playing thoughts you didn’t even consciously choose to think. If you can observe your thoughts, and you can observe your body, then logically, you have to be the thing doing the observing. You are the awareness behind it all.
We spend so much energy trying to "fix" the character we're playing, without realizing we are actually the audience watching the show.
It’s both terrifying and incredibly freeing. If I'm not this messy bundle of thoughts and meat, then who am I?
Has anyone else hit this wall? How do you actually navigate daily life once you realize your identity is basically a simulation?

Ate shit on the sand thought because i got too excited jumping up and down

Last night while my kids were doing sports with my husband, I heard a familiar melody from outside - the first ice cream truck of the season was here! I grabbed twenty euros, ran outside and bought tons of different ice creams. Then I waited for the kids to come back home, anticipating their reaction to the surprise. When they walked through the door, instead of telling them what happened, I said "here is a clue of what happened" and played the ice cream truck track (pun intended) on my iPhone. Guess what, apparently the winter was so long they did not recognize the melody! I had to tell them "the ice cream truck was here, guys!" and then let them choose the ice creams. It was such a nice evening.

i LOVE romaine lettuce and yet i had never gotten a caesar salad because years ago i was told caesar dressing is kinda like ranch and i really don’t like ranch.

accidentally ended up at a steakhouse the other day without steakhouse money and so in a sort of panic i ordered a caesar salad because it was the cheapest thing and omg my life is changed.

the caesar salad was so delicious and i feel like a new world of has opened up to me. literally everywhere has a caesar salad, im so excited. especially with summer coming i think having a chicken caesar wrap on the beach will change my life, im already picturing it.

my life felt similarly changed after trying butter chicken for the first time a few years ago. this is your sign to try both of those if you have not before.

I "caught" my son reading after bedtime a few months back. Y'all were full of stories of your own sweet reading memories of childhood reading and suggestions for books that will get him hooked on reading.

He's currently hooked on dogman comics. Asking me to request them from the library and rereading the one he has over and over until the new one comes in. Telling his grandma all about how dogman came to be. Having to be reminded not to stay up too late or he'll be slept at school the next day. Asking to read dogman to me at bedtime instead of my reading the illustrated Hobbit to him.

It's been fun.

• Ricky is wanting to update what Ricky did.

• Ricky wanting to update what Ricky played with yesterday.

• The blocks. Duplo. Crayons. Cushion. Drawing table.

• Ricky played with the xylophone hammer, tractors, letters, hexcavator, dump truck, blocks, blocks, blocks, blocks, blocks, blocks.

• Ricky did all of those things and played with the rubbish bin.

• Books.

• Ricky wanting to update that Ricky did all of those things.

• Ricky wanting to press buttons.

• Ricky wanting to sit on the desk. Press some buttons.

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• Label the road! Label the road! Label the road!

• Ricky would like a plate. With a spoon and a fork.

"What for?"

• For, um, stabbing and scooping.

• Ricky is NOT wanting food.

"If you don't eat food you'll be very hungry and that will feel bad. You also won't have any nutrients to grow up big and strong and you won't get big and strong enough to drive an excavator."

• Ricky will have food please.

A couple of years ago I got a rubber ducky advent calendar (shoutout to my parents for still getting me natty advent calendars even as I approach 30, I love it) and started doing daily duck reveals in the family group chat, then I bought a mystery ducky box after the calendar ran out because it brought me joy

Now I have about 50 duckies, with a bunch lined up under the telly and on the majority of surfaces around the flat!

Whenever I have a tradie round to fix something at home- be it the carpenters who redid the balcony, the gas assessors every autumn, or Gary the lovely plumber, they all get walked to the front door with sincere thanks for their time and expertise and handed a rubber ducky for the van

(water, tea and coffee is of course offered intermittently, and on an all day job bacon sandwiches are provided!)

It's not a big thing but it makes me happy to see grownass men light up when being presented with a novelty rubber ducky- the balcony team all got unicorn duckies from a set my mum gave me and they seemed as thrilled as I did when I initially received them!

It’s in the fridge now, tasted but uneaten, to get better overnight. I tried a new recipe, and my tongue says it’s a home run.

Tomorrow will be ~delicious~.

I care for two feral cats in my backyard. They are definitely feral and touching is NOT allowed. One of them likes to have what I call “cuddle” time through the glass door. He rubs his face on the doorframe, makes biscuits and I “scratch” the window and he puts his face there. It’s pretty odd because when I open the door and stick my hand out he acts like I have mortally offended him and his ancestors, but through the window is A-OK. A while back I started opening the door one inch so he could hear me telling him what a good boy he is. Tonight, for the first time ever, I heard the gentlest little purr from my boy!!! (Earl). I’m over the moon happy.

• One day Ricky will go up the hexcavator treads and into the cab and then he'll hold the joysticks and drive the excavator. And scoop. He'll move a good rubble pile into some dump trucks.

• Ricky wants to sit in with the man.

"I don't think it's allowed for two-year-olds to sit in the cab with the man while the excavator is working."

• What if the man gets out? Just Ricky!

• This is Ricky's little Mummy and this is Ricky's little big Mummy and this is a tree. And this is Ricky's pink vehicle and this is Ricky's red vehicle and this is a flower. And this is Ricky's grey vehicle and this is Ricky's orange vehicle and blue vehicle and green vehicle and brown vehicle and another blue vehicle.

Today's art no longer needs description.

• This is a car and a trailer. The car has a tow ball on the back. The trailer attaches to the tow ball.

• Jacques Kallis bowling against England in nineteen November.

We have this little book of random cricket facts from the 1999 Cricket World Cup. He loves it because it's a toddler-sized book. This results in him randomly telling us cricket facts - or at least, things adjacent thereto - sometimes.

• Bump it down, bump it down into the truck!

• That's a bit of a lady but there's no lady in that picture.

... he was looking at a picture in which you could see a woman's shoulder and the back of her head, so he's not wrong?

• A goom goom goom a gack gack gack.

• Eating hash browns. Pressing the buttons. Frogs. Play with the frogs.

My very old, very opinionated little dog believes that my sole reason to exist is to take her for car rides. And, since at this stage of her life my absolute greatest joy is to spoil her, I guess she's not *technically* wrong.

This afternoon, I had nowhere to go but she very insistently and very *loudly* informed me of her insatiable need for speed, so off we went to the local ice cream shop. It was busy and we're both introverts, but we powered through. She's shy, but was cursed with cuteness, so people were smiling and waving at her. Still, we *almost* got to the order window before a very tiny girl walked up to us & asked if she could pet my dog. So I crouched down and introduced her to Sylvie, and the kid just...? leaned into me like she herself was a friendly little pup, patted the doggy, and asked me questions and told me all about her opinions on dogs (all positive, btw).

Then, an even tinier child walked up and reached out in that grasping way that terrifies small dogs and their owners. I strategically turned Sylvie so that no little ears would get grabbed just in time for Dad to grab toddler and remind him to be gentle. So, as toddler held out his hand in a less grabby way, I let Sylvie decide if she wanted to be touched by him (he smelled like melted ice cream so that was a hesitant yes) & I had a nice, mostly unintelligible conversation with the tiny girl and her tinier brother until Dad dragged them away & it was my turn to order.

Before I stepped up to the window, I snuggled Sylvie close and whispered that she did *so good* with those little kids & i was very proud of her. I always do after interactions like that because I know that socializing isn't really Sylvie's jam, just like it's not really *my* jam. She may be a demented little psychopath, but she is a good girl at her core.

As we were waiting at the pickup window, my spouse pulled us into a hug and whispered that I did *so good* interacting with all of those strangers and that he was very proud of me.

Perhaps, deep down, I am also a good girl.