Small Moments, The Ones Built For Savoring
When I think about my favorite parts of the day, it’s usually the small moments that come to mind. Stepping onto my back porch on a summer morning and feeling the sunshine warm on my skin. The smell and first few sips of a freshly brewed pot of coffee. Watching my dog snooze during his post-breakfast but pre-morning exercise nap. The sounds of birds chirping and the neighborhood coming to life while I set my intentions for the day.
Later on, it isn’t how many things I check off on my to-do list that makes me smile. It’s actually the pauses I take to let the most satisfying of those accomplishments sink in. The 15-minute afternoon break to take my dog for a walk where I can savor a win, no matter how small. Or accomplishments or not, it’s being able to work or read or simply sit comfortably on my front porch all afternoon.
On a run, it isn’t the numbers on my watch. It’s the times when my legs move steadier than a metronome and I feel like I’m floating. It’s knowing that I’m exploring the world on foot, and how there’s always something new or familiar to discover. And the days when I feel my heart pounding in my chest and it suddenly hits me just how absolutely alive I am. That realization floods me with gratitude, every single time.
At the end of the day, it’s a contentedly full stomach settling and digesting after a homemade meal. And maybe it’s a little gross, but for me it’s also the slightly course texture of salty skin. That fills me with a kind of satisfaction that I can’t quite describe. Like my skin is a physical reminder of a day well spent. Plus, the saltier my skin is, the more rewarding a shower feels.
It’s the nights when my head hits the pillow and I know that within minutes I’ll be sound asleep. Or when my dog has pressed some part of his body against mine, his whole back or just a paw, and I can hear him snore contentedly, resting safe in his pack. It’s also the late night sounds of a thunderstorm and a cool breeze coming in through an open window. Conditions perfectly tailored to a great night of sleep.
To say this past week has been tough would be a ridiculous understatement, no matter which side of the raging debates you are on. While I can’t put adequate words to how I feel, there is one thing I can say with certainty: This past week, our government decided that I, and millions of other people like me, are inadequately equipped to make our own decisions about our future and our bodies. That is tough to digest in 2022. And it definitely isn’t sitting well for me.
But, it’s far from the first time that a group of people in power have caused societal indigestion for millions. I think that happens every day. We just have the privilege to ignore it when it doesn’t directly impact us. When the repercussions aren’t obvious in our daily lives. And, it’s far from the last time it will happen too.
The thing is though, we are all allowed to question rules. To routinely ask why, and to hear an explanation from the people who made them. To keep asking questions when we feel their explanations are incomplete. But then, it’s our responsibility to listen. Without hearing the why, we will never understand each other. Without understanding, we will never find out where our values actually do line up. Or where there might be a middle ground.
When I was 9 years old, I got publicly yelled at by my soccer coach. For asking why we brutally ran the score up on another team. Other kids learning a game, just like us. He had ignored me during the game, so I asked why again in the post-game huddle. His answer was because it was something other teams did to us. I raised my hand again and asked why. I said that it never felt good when other teams did it us, so why did we need to be like other teams?
That was when he yelled at me. In front the whole team and the parents who had started to wander over. When he told me that I wasn’t the coach. That I should get my own team if I wanted to question him. Now angry, my face hot with frustration, I told him that maybe I would. That was the end of it that day. A stubborn stand-off between a full-grown adult responsible for helping kids learn to play a game, and a child with questions. But the next time we had a big lead in a game, he didn’t push us to run up the score. He helped us be a different kind of team.
Anyway, that heated post-game huddle has always stuck with me. As a reminder that asking questions can be uncomfortable. But also that things might not change if we don’t ask why. That even when we don’t like it, if we’re willing to listen to someone’s questions or answers and sit with them, maybe we will get to somewhere different than where we are right now.
Life in the world these days is endless chaos and emotionally draining. Simply put, things are tough right now, no matter who you are. But somewhere in all our lives are curious, stubborn 9 year olds willing to ask why. And if we dig into that curiosity, maybe some good will come from all of this. Maybe we’ll leave a lot of words unsaid, and still find ourselves on a different kind of team at the next game.
That’s my hope for the future anyway. But in the meantime, we’re going to continue battling through a lot of dark, heavy days. Which means, the daily small, deep breath moments that bring us joy, gratitude, and hope are actually big, important things. Fresh coffee, warm sunshine, and whatever else. I think we’re going to need to keep savoring these little moments, as often as we possible can.
