I used to think the life happened in big moments. Moments akin to splashy fire-works, ringing church bells, or neon lights racing around the frame of an old marquee, annoying all who passed. Moments so big, they make you stop and stare, and are worthy of your full attention.
Yet, as I’ve come to learn in my 45 years, it doesn’t always happen like that. Yes, there are moments that inevitably are marked with the fat marker on the calendar, noting a “big moment.” Like hearing your baby cry for the first time, or watching your child graduate from high school. Perhaps even when you win the coveted first prize at the county fair for “Best Adaptation of an Apple Pie.”
Big, hearty, “notice me” moments.
Sadly, all too often we skip from big moment to big moment as if we are skipping from large stone to large stone, ignoring the little stones tucked in between, weed-covered and unnoticeable, as we jump over them.
Last weekend, Sexy Hubby and I were relaxing (at our friends lake house – they were both working!!) We sat on the patio, in a fold-out “love seat”, feet propped up, gazing at the rolling waves on Ennis Lake. It was a lovely little moment.
Quiet (save for the mower that rode by occasionally, and the weed whacker howling from the distance), we sat, chugging a few cold beers, talking about whatever popped into our heads. We were relaxed, and hot, but enjoying early summer in southwest Montana.
As our friends toiled (and I did feel slightly guilty for just watching them) we sat together in a private moment, enjoying each other’s company.
As we sat, we made a few “big-picture” decisions, when to take our next vacation and the type of home we would purchase next.
Those big decisions were declared on a lazy, summer Saturday, sandwiched between a few beers, sunscreen and a few little moments strung together. It struck me at that time, life isn’t about the big fire-works moment that we tend to remember with the most clarity.
Rather, life happens in the everyday, run-of-the-mill moments. The ones you usually find yourself jumping over, stretching to get to the next big moment.
I have learned to love the little moments.
In the end, those are the ones that create the largest volume in our life. Exactly opposite of the big, breathy moments that are few and far between.
I encourage you, my gentle readers to notice – and hold precious – the multitude of little moments in your life. If you’re not careful, all the little moments will be swallowed up by the big moments, when the little ones are just as sweet, if not more so, to savor.