When Nothing Special Means Everything
Hm. Somethin’
‘bout the little things...
The random jigs in the kitchen while cooking, the outbursts of off-key singing to tunes I haven’t jammed to in a while. I treasure the mundane moments of just running errands, or the random outings to simply get some air (sidebar: if you’re still working from home, please step outside. Even just for five minutes!), no matter the weather. It’s needed for me right now… always, really.
There’s something almost sacred about these pieces of my day that used to slip through my fingers unnoticed, like light winds on summer strolls near the water. There’s this slow, tender, majestic-ass feeling in those first moments before the world takes shape… you know? Like when the light is still deciding how to spill into the room, when the house breathes quietly and the faint sound of tires passes over gravel (or concrete)… when I’m not yet committed to the pace of the day. There’s a sacredness in the way I stretch beneath my heavy blankets, in the sound of stirring, or in the simple act of filling a cup with hot water for my caffeine fix… sipping it without rushing.
I find a grounding in these little moments that no grand revelation has ever given me. It’s like a gentle nudge reminding me that I don’t need to chase a higher purpose across continents. Sometimes the sacred is already here, settling itself into the folds of an ordinary Wednesday.
Years ago, I felt like tasks I needed to complete quickly. Now they feel like little reminders that connection doesn’t need orchestration. Sometimes it unfolds naturally when we let ourselves be fully present.
Even errands have taken on a sweetness.
The slow wander through aisles, the shared glances with my partner when we find something amusing, the mini debates about which snack should make it into the cart.
It’s in these moments I’m reminded that spirituality isn’t only found in the high places, You know...the vision boards, the intentional journaling, the mindful breathing sessions (though they help; I love a 4-4-4-4 box breath!). It’s also in the crevices of uneven harmonies of a song sung while stirring grits, the hyena laughter that comes without warning, the tiny shared silences that say, “We’re here. We’re okay.”
Maybe that’s the beauty of living right now: honoring the things that don’t announce themselves. Pausing long enough to see that every day offers me a handful of moments that could easily blend into the background but don’t have to. It keeps me steady.
Life is still moving fast. Responsibilities stack like a good game of Jenga, emotions shift, the world spins on, of course.
So today, I’m cherishing the kitchen jigs, the commute chatter, the fresh chill of the wind on my face. I’m cherishing the nothing-special moments that somehow mean everything.
’Cause you know… the ordinary’s been extraordinary all this time anyway.
Just me scribbling about slowing down and appreciating the small, everyday moments. Kitchen dances, quiet mornings, simple errands, and the little rituals that keep me grounded.