Brief Field Notes On Pleasure

Mundane Pleasures, Enduring Pleasures: Notes from Walking in a French Village.

As the train slowly begins its journey toward a quaint village nestled in the Luberon, France, I pick up Fire by Anaïs Nin and let my imagination drift to New York, December 1934—a night when Anaïs arrives by boat with her lover. Her diary overflows with exhilarating experiences and the pleasures she discovers in her surroundings.

I am heading to a place I’ve been returning to with the same friends every year since 2021. It’s a place abundant in “small pleasures” – visual, cultural, culinary, artistic, and olfactory. This full week is an immersion in reading, writing, walking, exploring, eating, cooking, and simply enjoying.

Mundane, fleeting, comforting pleasures

I sometimes feel out of place when I proclaim my deep enjoyment of something seemingly banal to others—like the taste of a tomato or the color of a particular leaf. Some people get it, some don’t, and that’s fine. But I am deeply drawn to those who take pleasure in the simplest of things.

“I'm happy to report that the first tomato, with olive oil and salt, as a side to cheese, was amazing. ✨ The Alicante monastrell-merlot is also quite nice and has more personality than the other ones I've gotten.” – a WhatsApp message from Kerry, a friend.

This place, a little village in Southern France, is simply that: a place where you can gush endlessly over something as simple as tomatoes and enjoy it freely, without feeling “guilty.” I’ve never understood the guilt or the label of “hedonist” when it comes to appreciating simple pleasures. I’m not proclaiming that pleasure is the most important thing in life, but it’s a recurring and valuable feeling, one we often overlook. We don’t take enough time to recognize its benefits or to cultivate it.

Pleasure is central to the transformative project of the self, yet we have a world that is averse to pleasure, limiting who and how we can be. Enjoyable life can be seen as an urgent task then, calling for a reworking of our relations with ourselves, with others and with the world. - Brigid Hains, “Enjoy!”

Enduring pleasures

I believe that loving well brings an enduring form of pleasure. However, sometimes it’s difficult to maintain that love—we slip, mess up, and fail to show up. It’s human.

Something special occurs when we return to loving well, despite feelings of disappointment or shame. We’re not only enveloped in old love but also in a new form of it. Nothing stays the same; we have already changed, and the depth of our love becomes clearer, sharper, softer, and stronger.

The pleasure of this return—of commitment and responsibility—creates a cascading effect. It’s exquisitely hopeful and expands our capacity to love even more deeply.

This little village in Southern France is a place of constant return for me—a place for both loving well and experiencing pleasure. At least, that’s what I hope to continue doing throughout the years. The pleasure lies not only in the commitment to return but also in seeing with clear eyes, again and again, how the environment and the world around us change our appetite for more: more colors, more flavors, more beauty, more life.

the pleasure of eating with loved ones