I have a Swedish word I adore - billigt nöje. It means cheap thrills, and it sounds nicer in the original language; perhaps “simple pleasures” is more fitting. The literal translation might sound a bit tawdry, but the essence is pure gold. It’s about joy without the price tag, happiness that doesn’t depend on an invoice, an event, or anyone else’s approval.

I sometimes joke that I’ve been Lean for so long that I’ve accidentally ‘Leaned’ my emotions too. What started as an effort to process efficiency has somehow become a lifelong obsession with squeezing every drop of joy from the smallest, most ordinary moments.

My personal KPI? Never be unhappy for long. Not the kind of “I’m fine” autopilot happiness, but the playful, mischievous kind that feels like the world just winked at you.

Because here’s the thing: in life, adulting is mostly non-value-added. Bills, emails, tax returns, those “quick meetings” that eat your afternoon, and none of these create real value in the Lean sense of the word. They’re necessary but not value-adding, the equivalent of maintenance downtime. You can’t eliminate them entirely, but you can certainly design around them. I see it as part of my personal 5S: Sort out the dull stuff fast so I can get back to the fun flow.

Fun as flow

I’ve realised that a life of perfect, continuous flow is an illusion. The Lean dream is always out of reach, yet that pursuit sharpens my focus: seeking moments when joy, purpose, and presence briefly align. That chase, not the destination, defines my meaning and happiness.

Lean teaches us that waste is actually just in motion or inventory; it’s also in moments. The seconds you waste overthinking, over-planning, or waiting for the “right time” to enjoy something.

That’s pure waiting waste, one of my personal TIMPWOOD favourites (TIMPWOOD is a Lean memory aid for the eight types of waste, like Waiting, Overproduction, etc.).

The more I studied Lean, a methodology for continuous improvement and cutting waste, the more I realised that the same thinking applies beautifully to happiness. You can 5S (organise and systematically improve) your home, your workspace, your wardrobe, and, why not, your joy?

My quality department of joy

These days, I treat my happiness like a process to be improved. I’m my own Quality Department, conducting small root-cause analyses when I feel flat.

Why am I irritated? What’s the bottleneck? Is my energy low because I’m overproducing (too many commitments), or is it poor scheduling (didn’t plan recovery time)? That might sound ridiculous, but it works.

For example, I once caught myself spiralling into a dreary mood on a Sunday afternoon. Classic “weekend ’s-almost-over” syndrome. Old me would have tried to fix it by doing. Clean, p something. Prep something. Achieve something. Lean me did a quick Gemba, and I observed the situation objectively. The value was missing because I was mentally stuck on Monday.

So, I changed the flow. I threw on a hoodie, grabbed a bag of crisps, and put on a cheesy matinee movie. Fifteen minutes later, I was laughing again. Value restored. It cost nothing. But it was premium in joy…I might have created a bad Sunday habit that I can’t shake, though!

Waste not, want not -even with fun

TIMPWOOD, my old reliable mnemonic for the eight wastes in Lean (transport, inventory, motion, people, waiting, overproduction, overprocessing, defects), sneaks into my life constantly, often in places that make me giggle.

• T – Transport: Why drive across town for a coffee when you can make one at home, light a candle, and sip it in your pyjamas with a podcast?
• I – Inventory: The half-dozen latest hobbies I’ve bought equipment for but never used
• M – Motion: The endless scrolling on Netflix, trying to pick a film. Motion waste disguised as “relaxation research.”
• P – People: Not valuing your relationships properly, ignoring the husband who’s quietly doing the laundry because you’re too busy replying to “urgent” emails.
• W – Waiting: For holidays, weekends, retirement, as if happiness is on lay-by.
• O – Overproduction: Doing too much “fun” until it’s not fun anymore. (Yes, even fun can be overproduced. Exhibit A: bottomless brunch.)
• O – Overprocessing: When you make a simple picnic into a three-hour Pinterest project.
• D – Defects: When the pursuit of joy itself becomes stressful. Ever had a “perfect” day out ruined by the pressure of making it perfect? Exactly that.

Lean reminds me to find the minimum viable fun—the simplest, easiest action for maximum joy. Looking at life this way, I laugh and remember: true value is often small, cheap, and immediate. Lean thinking is my toolkit for happiness.

Cheap doesn’t mean lesser

There’s an old bias in how we value experiences. The more expensive it is, the more “special” it feels. But that’s a false signal of value. Lean taught me that value is defined by the customer, in this case, me.

The worth of my happiness isn’t measured in pounds spent but in satisfaction delivered. A Michelin-rated meal can be a waste if it’s done for status, not soul. A spontaneous sandwich in the park, eaten cross-legged under a tree, can be an exquisite value-add if it delivers calm and connection.

My Lean instinct is to constantly redefine value, asking myself: What matters most now? Sometimes it’s freedom, sometimes it’s connection, sometimes it’s a perfectly fried egg.

Improvement isn’t always about more

When people hear “continuous improvement,” they often think of adding. But Lean is really about subtracting, removing friction, overwork, and clutter. The same applies to joy.

You don’t need to add grand adventures or big milestones. Just remove the things that dull your sparkle. Simplify the path between you and what makes you feel alive.

For me, that might mean refusing a “productive weekend” in favour of aimless wandering. It might mean saying no to another project so I can say yes to a long bath. That’s Lean reduction in motion, eliminating the unnecessary to make space for value.

Measuring Joy (Badly, but Lovingly)

Of course, being the Lean nerd I am, I occasionally try to measure happiness.

• Did I laugh today?
• Did I make something, even if it’s just dinner?
• Did I learn something small?
• Did I connect with someone I care about?
• Did I do one thing purely for fun?
• And yes! My notoriously judged weekly “tally” system of “big” arguments with my hubby, which I seek to reduce next week…

If the answers are mostly “yes,” I’m satisfied with my day’s flow. If not, it’s time for some root cause analysis: What went off-spec?

But I’ve learned not to chase metrics too hard. The moment happiness becomes a KPI, it loses its soul. So, I audit lightly, like a casual check-in, not a compliance exercise.

The luxury of now

That’s what billigt nöje really means: not cheapness, but the immediate luxury of seizing happiness in the present. It’s a skill—a Lean mindset—finding pleasure before the world’s demands return.

It’s knowing that you can’t have fun all the time, because then it becomes baseline, not bliss. Just like in Lean, if everything’s labelled “priority,” nothing actually is. The contrast is what gives joy its punch.

So, I curate my happiness like a flow line, some peaks, some rests, always adjusting, never stagnant.

Happiness doesn’t scale with effort!

After two decades of living Lean, my greatest revelation isn’t how to do more with less. It’s how to feel more with less.

Happiness doesn’t scale with effort or expense, but with presence, creativity, and permission, permission to waste a sunny afternoon doing absolutely nothing, permission to eat crisps on the sofa instead of chasing perfection.

Lean life, at its heart, is about respect for people and respect for time. And there’s no greater respect than using your finite time wisely, not just productively.

So, here’s my current state: I still plan, I still 5S, I still optimise, but mostly, I do it to make space for billigt nöje. The small, scrappy, silly joys which make life feel lean, light, and luxuriously human.

And if one day I perfect the flow of happiness, I’ll let you know.

But honestly? Never going to happen!