I can’t explain the way a really wonderful song makes me feel.
Alive. Inspired. Sad.
I literally get goose-bumps from a powerful tune that touches me.
I can’t explain the way I feel when my daughter smiles at me.
Alive. In love. Soulful.
There are some things in life that touch me deeply, on a level where words typically fail.
These are the things that make life worth living.
Still, life is the daily motions of plugging along and getting through each minute.
Standing in line. Being somewhere when you’d rather be somewhere else. Having too much on your plate.
Yet when I stop and really think about what it is I’m rushing around for—where my impatience with the actual, physical process of living my life stems from—I never have a good enough reason.
Then I think about the moments in my life when I’ve been truly happy. Again, happy or touched on a level that’s difficult to even convey. These moments are small.
Sure, my wedding day is up there, and the birth of my daughter was miraculous, of course; but it’s the tiny things that happen while I’m waiting in line—like the sincere smile my daughter gave the cashier when she handed her a sticker. These moments are the root of my internal feeling of satisfaction.
So what am I rushing for? What am I rushing to? Death? The next line?
Why do I want to be somewhere else?
Example: I’m participating in a teacher training right now and finding it extremely challenging to be apart from my toddler. The thing is though, I’ve been dying to take this training, and I deserve to enjoy it—and my daughter deserves a mother who stays in the present moment because otherwise I’d miss the kiss she gives me when she’s sitting on my lap and I’m reading Mr. Brown Can Moo! to her for the hundredth time; I’d miss that if I was ignoring her and making a “necessary” phone call instead.
So what’s my point? Where am I going with this?
Remember that every single time you wish a less-than-perfect life moment away you’re by default wishing away those other “nothing” moments that make up your meaningful existence. Those sweet smiles and connections—they happen on an infinitesimally small scale too.
Life can give us goosebumps, and it can give us headaches, and I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.
Like elephant Family on Facebook.
Ed: Brianna Bemel