From Glittering Skylines to Quiet Cups of Tea: Finding the Special in the Everyday

 Savoring Simple Daily Pleasures

We landed in Singapore under a sky that shimmered as brightly as the city itself. From the moment we arrived, it was a whirlwind of opulence—rooftop infinity pools, mirrored skyscrapers, immersive art, tasting menus that looked like sculpture, and boutiques so beautiful they felt like galleries. Every hour was curated, every view Instagram-worthy. It was exhilarating, indulgent, unforgettable.

But something unexpected happened on the flight home.

In a rare moment of stillness, cruising above the clouds somewhere between time zones and to-do lists, I opened Love for Imperfect Things by Haemin Sunim. 

I read it cover to cover in one sitting. It felt like it had been waiting for me. One quote, in particular, landed with the kind of gentle clarity that only comes when you’re truly ready to hear it or be reminded: Something I have frequently referenced or written about personally, but after the saturation of glamour and abundance and stores with no price tags it was apt and perfectly timed to read;

"The nice cutlery set, tea, wine, clothes, pen, quilt, that you have been saving for a special occasion—use them whenever you get the chance. Special moments are not separate from our everyday lives. When you make use of something special, it makes the moment special."

It echoed inside me.

After days of high-end everything, I suddenly longed for the quiet beauty of home: the favorite mug I always reach for, the scent of clean sheets drying in the breeze, the dog-eared pages of a favorite book. It was a reminder that luxury doesn't always need to come from the outside. Sometimes, the truest luxury is presence, and a home that you've created as your sanctuary.

There’s no denying the thrill of a five-star hotel or the magic of city lights reflecting on the Marina Bay Sands. But now that we’re back, I’ve found myself lighting the good candle just because, pouring tea into the "special occasion" china, and pulling the good quilt over my knees as I read - feeling the cool after the drama,tically different temperatures.  Not waiting. Not saving. Not separating joy into compartments.

Singapore gave us the gift of beauty, but coming home gave us the invitation to recognize it—in the simple, in the slow, in the small.

I freely admit I love the atmosphere and cool air conditioning of a high-end mall- and in Singapore their air is even fragranced with expensive scents- the little buzz of wondering what you might spy (or whom!) and the holiday feeling of freedom that you might splurge perhaps.... The window displays of Haute Couture and the dazzle of jewels and watches worth as much as our home- but I had fully reached saturation by the end of our trip, and longed for birdsong, cooler temperatures and the treetop view from our tranquil bedroom. I was shopped out- a very rare occurrence for me! 

The trip reminded me how it feels to be dazzled. The book reminded me that I can feel that way, here, at home, in the everyday. My daily walks, the silky soft rumbling pile of fur at the end of our bed, the iris blooming in the garden, spring bursting forth, even picking up fresh produce locally and bumping into many familiar faces and members of the community, stopping to catch up, exchange a greeting or enquire as to their health. 

Real, simple, unfiltered everydays. 

And I think that was always the point.