The secret to life is finding joy in ordinary things. I'm

“The secret to life is finding joy in ordinary things. I’m interested in happiness.” – Ruth Reichl

In these gentle yet profound words, Ruth Reichl, the celebrated food writer and critic, unveils a truth that is both timeless and transformative. Her voice, born of years spent tasting the world — not only through food but through the richness of living — reminds us that the secret to life does not dwell in distant dreams or grand achievements, but in the quiet, overlooked corners of the everyday. To find joy in ordinary things is to reclaim life itself, to recognize that beauty is not reserved for the mighty moments, but hidden in the simple — the smell of bread rising, the warmth of morning light, the laughter of a friend across a humble table.

The origin of this wisdom comes from Reichl’s own journey through both glamour and simplicity. As the editor of Gourmet magazine, she lived in the bright world of fine dining and luxury, yet she often wrote most passionately about her memories of home-cooked meals and shared moments of love and imperfection. Her quote was not born in indulgence but in reflection — in realizing that happiness cannot be bought or manufactured, only discovered. To say, “I’m interested in happiness,” is to declare allegiance not to the pursuit of status or perfection, but to the quiet, enduring peace that comes from seeing the world with gratitude.

This idea is as old as philosophy itself. The great Stoics taught that joy is not found in controlling life, but in accepting it; not in riches or power, but in contentment with what is before us. Epictetus, once a slave, said that freedom lies not in what we possess, but in how we perceive. He found serenity in simplicity, dignity in restraint, and meaning in the smallest acts of daily life. Likewise, Buddha taught that enlightenment is not escape from the ordinary, but awakening within it — to eat, to breathe, to walk, to smile, all with awareness. Reichl’s wisdom, though modern in its phrasing, sings the same ancient melody: happiness is not elsewhere; it is here, now, waiting to be noticed.

Consider, too, the story of Brother Lawrence, the humble monk who found God in washing dishes. While others sought holiness in prayer or solitude, he discovered it in the rhythm of daily chores. Every act — scrubbing, sweeping, serving — became sacred when done with mindfulness and love. In his life, the divine wore an apron. So it is with Reichl’s teaching: that we do not need to chase joy through endless striving. The extraordinary is hidden within the ordinary; it is revealed not by seeking more, but by seeing more deeply.

Yet this path requires courage — the courage to slow down, to resist the noise of a world that glorifies speed, success, and spectacle. Many wander restlessly, believing that happiness lies just beyond the next accomplishment, the next possession, the next escape. But such seeking is like drinking from the sea: the more we consume, the thirstier we become. To find joy in ordinary things is to step out of that cycle — to realize that fulfillment comes not from adding to life, but from awakening within it. It is to see the divine in the mundane, the sacred in the simple.

Reichl’s words also remind us that happiness is an art, not an accident. It must be cultivated, chosen, practiced daily like music or prayer. To train the heart to find delight in the small — a meal shared, a sunset glimpsed, a moment of kindness — is to become rich beyond measure. The one who can find wonder in the commonplace will never live a poor day. For even when sorrow comes, that person’s spirit will know where to look for light: in the laughter of others, in the scent of rain, in the quiet persistence of hope.

So, my children, take this lesson into your days: seek joy not in the extraordinary, but in the everyday. When you rise, let gratitude be your first breath. When you eat, taste fully. When you work, do so with presence. When you love, love without haste. Let no small pleasure escape unnoticed — for in noticing, you awaken to the fullness of being alive. The secret to life, as Reichl teaches, is not in changing the world, but in changing how we see it.

For when one learns to find joy in ordinary things, every moment becomes luminous, and every breath becomes a hymn. And in that humble radiance, we find the truest treasure of all — not fame, not fortune, but simple, steady, abiding happiness.