> ## Content Index > Fetch the complete content index at: https://www.paperweightmag.com/llms.txt > Use this file to discover other available public pages before exploring further. # On peas and joy - URL: https://www.paperweightmag.com/on-peas-and-joy/ - Published: 2026-08-02T09:56:00.000Z - Updated: 2026-08-02T09:56:22.000Z - Description: Louisa Wells writes of the bliss to be gained from sincere participation in life's smaller things. - Author: Louisa Wells - Tags: UK Affairs, Unsh*ttification This weekend I will step up to the biggest day in my sporting career: to defend my title as the women’s World Pea Throwing Champion, at the annual contest in Lewes. The challenge, as the name suggests, is to throw a single pea (garden-size, frozen), as far as possible. Last year I competed for the first time and rocketed to victory with 19.3 metres. As you can tell, I’m quite proud of this entirely pointless achievement. The win is my first ever sporting success. A 38-year-old prodigy, I have not historically been sporty, interested in becoming sporty, or interested in sports. But the pea championships got a firm grip on me after attending as a spectator and volunteer pea-spotter the year before. Outside of the fact it’s an August afternoon spent outside a charming local pub, the day is full of small but important magic. From the town crier turned pea announcer, the person handing out the peas who makes sure to adjust the cup to make sure you get a less defrosted option, to the sacred bond formed by the people lining the throwing area to spot the peas as they land and the surprising swiftness that the crowd can clear the road in when a lost car makes its way through. I am waxing lyrical about this event because it encapsulates one of my driving life philosophies: That everything is better if you take it sincerely. I do not believe in enjoying things ironically. Separating ourselves from joys large and small in order to maintain any level of cool or avoid looking silly seems like a complete waste of precious time. And it’s a small thing, to win at throwing a pea. It’s not something that many people find impressive. But this week, I will attend my only pre-match practice in the park with focus. I will take my turn with seriousness hoping I win again. I will invite everyone I know to support me like it’s my wedding. I will feel genuinely nervous about getting my hopping technique right under pressure, and if I win again I will be overjoyed and smug and a little drunk and this year I will know how to spray prosecco without having to be shown by the kind person standing in second place. All without facing any real stakes at all. ![](https://storage.ghost.io/c/97/7c/977c5cdf-7176-4cbd-bf06-fc5902787e82/content/images/2026/08/IMG-20250810-WA0011-1.jpg) Credit: Louisa Wells What a great pleasure of life, to be able to pour yourself wholeheartedly into a fleeting, small thing, with everything to gain and only one small world title to lose. How human to see the day in front of you as the only thing that has ever mattered. To build our lives out of many days of taking joy seriously. It is important, especially now I think, to be able to take moments like this seriously. The state of the world is overwhelming. We’re burnt out on how much there is to care about, to fear, how much horror to absorb and who to listen to in order to fix it. Everything we are told to lend our sincerity to is hard and long. To our careers, to keeping our families and friends safe and loved, to fighting for fairer politics and a kinder world. The pull for all of our focus and sincerity is towards big important things, decisions that have long-term consequences and require analysis and forward thinking. Even hobbies are seen so often as things you must dedicate yourself to and become good at. God, how good it is to turn some of that care and energy into one week of focus on the aerodynamics of peas. We can’t afford to bury our heads and avoid the big questions, but we can make sure that the world we’re building towards also takes joy seriously.