The Little Things Are the Big Things

I’ve always been a big-goal person. Give me something to work toward and I’m all in. The problem is, when I’m focused on where I’m trying to go, I can be pretty lousy at noticing how far I’ve already come.

I’ll accomplish something I worked hard for, feel good about it for approximately five minutes and then immediately start thinking about the next thing.

Apparently, my internal celebration committee has a very short meeting agenda.

For a long time, I thought the big moments were the ones that really counted. Launch the business. Reach the goal. Finish the project. Make the big change. Those were the things worth celebrating.

But most of life doesn’t happen in those moments. It happens in all the smaller ones along the way.

A few years ago, two days before my birthday, a relatively new friend handed me a gift. I saved it to open on my actual birthday, and when I did, I could tell she’d put real thought into choosing it.

What stayed with me wasn’t really the gift. It was what the gesture said:

I thought about you.

There’s something about being remembered that gets me every time.

That morning, Joe made breakfast and raised his coffee mug to toast me. He started naming things I’d done that I rarely stopped to acknowledge myself. Starting Funderful Experiences. Writing. Putting myself out there. Continuing to reach for new friendships even when that hasn’t always been easy for me.

I’m not particularly good at stopping to appreciate what I’ve done, so hearing him say it out loud made my heart grow three sizes, Grinch-style.

Also, I firmly believe more birthday toasts should involve coffee.

Later, we went to one of my favorite beachfront restaurants for a long lunch. Sitting there looking at the ocean, I had one of those moments when I remembered that I’d dreamed about living in Southern California since I was in high school.

And now I do.

Nothing had changed that day. I simply stopped long enough to notice it.

On the way home, we stopped at one of my favorite clothing boutiques and a dress I’d had my eye on months earlier was sitting in the sale room.

In my size.

Let’s not pretend enlightenment was the only thing making me happy that day. 😂

Throughout the day, texts, calls and emails came in from people I care about. Some were old friends. Some were newer people in my life. A few came from people who read my writing.

Joe and I ended the day floating in the pool, listening to a playlist he’d made for my 50th birthday and watching my Cubbies lose to Cincinnati.

Not every moment can be magical. But when I went to bed that night, I remember thinking about what a good day it had been.

And almost none of what made it good was big.

That’s what stayed with me.

I’m someone who is almost always working toward something. There’s usually a goal, a problem I’m trying to solve or something I’m convinced will feel great once I finally get there.

And goals are good. I like having something to look forward to. But there’s a danger in making the big things responsible for making our lives feel good.

The promotion. The trip. The new house. The business milestone. The relationship. The thing we’ve decided will make us feel like we’ve finally arrived.

Meanwhile, life is happening on a Tuesday.

Someone remembers something you told them.

Your husband makes you coffee.

You laugh really hard with a friend.

You look around and realize you’re living somewhere you once dreamed about.

The dress is 50 percent off.

None of these things changes your life.

But they’re part of your life.

I’ve started thinking that appreciating our lives isn’t always about feeling grateful for the big picture. Sometimes it’s simply about getting better at noticing the individual moments that make an ordinary day feel good.

Maybe the question isn’t only What am I working toward?

Every once in a while, it might be worth asking:

What’s already happening in my life that deserves to be noticed?