I was thinking today as I rode the train home from Sydney, about just how significant the last six months has been for me. And in seeking gratitude to fortify my mood I came to delight in the small things and moments, and to think about what a beautiful role they play in the landscape of our lives.
Whether it’s your own experiences or whether you’re partaking in or witnessing the moments of others, those moments of joy, confusion, anger, shared jokes that just you share. The smile, the laughter, the haunting look, the screwed up forehead with brow riding high, the body language and facial expression that are the dress of a heart seeking confirmation. The moments are a gift and a privilege.
These moments and their expression are the nuances in the stories we co-create. They are the significators – the things that can best define our character and experiences, even when those small things seem quiet or sit in the shade of the bright memories.
I was remembering how as a child I could be made so very happy by the gift of a small rubber ball, see-through with squiggles inside. Of course I would lose the ball, but this just provided my Dad with numerous opportunities to delight me with another.
This small thing says a lot about me and shaped me. I’m easily pleased; my father knew what gave me joy; I could spend hours honing my hand-eye coordination; I could spend hours throwing the ball against the wall and catching it while my mind wandered and wondered; I valued the gift and ownership; the ball was a strong connection to Melbourne (where the balls were bought and often lost while we holidayed with my Great Aunts)…
Sometimes I think it’s like stopping to smell the roses. There’s enormous pleasure in taking time to notice, in recalling small delights and gifting them to yourself again. And in doing so we can see how they make us, and in fact use them to make ourselves again and again in each moment.