This series on My Favorite Things has become a gentle practice of noticing—of honoring the small experiences that bring comfort, clarity, and calm. In this third post, I’m sharing a few more of the favorite things that help me feel rooted and present, reminders that even in the midst of life’s complexities, there is still beauty to be found.
The smell of fresh lemons.
Fresh lemons carry a scent that feels instantly lighter. Crisp and alive, it drifts through the room and lifts the heaviness you didn’t realize you were holding. It’s the smell of beginnings—of clean hands, open windows, and small moments reset.
Photo by Sama Hosseini on Unsplash
The warmth of the sun on your skin after a long winter feels like a quiet return to life. It settles in slowly, easing stiff shoulders and thawing something deeper than cold. For a moment, you close your eyes and let it linger—a soft reminder that warmth, light, and easier days always find their way back.
Photo by Kyle Brooks on Unsplash
The excitement of opening a new book
The moment you open a new book, there’s a soft sigh as the spine loosens and the pages shift for the first time. The faint scent of ink and paper rises, carrying the promise of worlds not yet explored. Your fingers trace the crisp edges, knowing every page holds something undiscovered. It’s a quiet thrill—an invitation to step out of the present and into a story waiting just for you.
Photo by Canva Pro
The Taste of a Peach Fresh Off of the Tree
There’s something timeless about the taste of a peach picked straight from the tree. Its sweetness is unpolished and honest, juice running down your wrist as you bite in. It carries the memory of bare feet, warm air, and summers that seemed to stretch forever.
Photo by NisonCo PR and SEO on Unsplash
Camping and waking up refreshed after breathing fresh mountain air.
Camping in the mountains changes the way you sleep. The air is crisp and clean, filling your lungs with something that feels almost medicinal. You wake refreshed, unhurried, as if your body finally remembered how to rest when given enough sky and silence.
Photo by Scott Goodwill on Unsplash
The sound of a distant train whistle in the night.
The distant cry of a train whistle moves through the night like a message meant for no one in particular. It speaks of crossings and in-between places, of journeys unfolding far from where you stand. You listen until it disappears, feeling both grounded and quietly untethered at the same time.
Photo by Elland Gee on Unsplash
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
She is also a mother of children living with chronic illness. Some of their conditions overlap with her own, while others are different. She has spent countless hours researching these illnesses to advocate for and support her family. This unique combination of personal and caregiver experience allows her to approach chronic illness with both compassion and well-informed insight.
Her mission is to empower others facing similar struggles to discover resilience, joy, and purpose—even in the midst of overwhelming circumstances. Through her blog and Instagram channel, Leisa shares personal stories, chronic illness support strategies, symptom management tips, and compassionate guidance rooted in lived experience and years of hands-on research.
She believes that while MS, trauma, and other hardships may reshape your path, they don’t erase the possibility of living fully—because an exceptional life can be intentionally cultivated, even in the midst of challenges.
Medical Experience & Perspective
Leisa Watkins writes from firsthand experience living with multiple chronic illnesses, as well as supporting her children through their own health challenges. She combines personal experience, caregiver insight, and extensive research to share practical strategies and guidance for managing chronic conditions.
Note: Leisa is not a medical professional. Readers should consult qualified healthcare providers for personalized medical advice.
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