Most humans are never fully present in the now, because unconsciously they believe that the next moment must be more important than this one. But then you miss your whole life, which is never not now – Eckhart Tolle
Like many of you, my current pace of life has forced me to slow down. Although my “regular” life in Japan was unhurried when compared to my full-time working life in the States, this new season has brought even more stillness. But taking a step back has brought me to a place of noticing, a place I haven’t been in years.
Coming back to stillness
I feel like I have a natural affinity for seeing and calling out the tiny joys – in college, it wasn’t uncommon for me to stop on my way to class to admire flowers, or watch a bird hunt for worms after a rainstorm. But the frantic pace of life can push that habit to the back burner in favor of doing more in a shorter time. Who has time to stop and smell the roses when there’s so much to accomplish?
This past week, I’ve noticed myself paying more attention to the small moments of life. For me, small moments encompass a range of things – the way the sun shines into the front window in the morning, having a good conversation with Husband, or watching a houseplant create and reveal a new leaf.
When life is busy, it’s harder to recognize the small things. Overstuffed schedules take precedence, and we find ourselves running from one activity to the next without much thought as to how we get there. It takes effort and intention, a focused choice to see something deemed as ordinary as something remarkable.
A more open schedule is leaving me more time to not only see the roses but to stop and smell them.
Noticing the small moments
Most every day, I take Fred on an afternoon walk. I usually have one headphone in, listening to a business or writing podcast. Often, I’ll stop to jot down an idea or make a note in my phone. Recently, I also find myself taking photos with my phone. (Thankfully, Fred’s a patient pup).
As I focus on slowing down and paying attention, I find myself more in tune with small miracles that go unnoticed every day. The way my limbs move and bend during a mid-morning yoga practice, every system in my body working to keep me in motion. A tree, teeming with life, houses moss and slugs, ants and beetles, all sharing the bark of another living organism.
The caterpillar on the fence, the white moths that dance in the trees in the spring, or the shiny trails of snails crisscrossing the sidewalk in the morning sun are all now a part of my daily ritual. Every day, mundane pieces of life are actually extraordinary, deserving of being elevated to something worth noticing.
I recently bought a One Line A Day journal, the purpose being to record one or two highlights of the day. With space under each date to capture five years of thoughts, in a few years, I’ll be able to look back and reminisce. By design, this book documents a lot of ordinary moments.
These COVID days are keeping my schedule pretty regular and uneventful. Too many routine days in a row can leave me feeling numb to the magic and wonder of life. But the regular, daily habit of seeing the small and ordinary moments as extraordinary naturally fills me with wonder and awe.
An Act of Worship
For me, taking the time to notice and appreciate a small moment is an act of worship. The variety seen in creation, from the flowers to the birds, is astounding. It reminds me of the creative nature of God and his love for us. For me, the intricacy with which all things are made and work together speaks to a caring and careful Creator.
It’s no secret – our world is interconnected, and discussions around COVID is bringing this idea to the forefront of our conversation. We’re more aware than ever how our actions impact our neighbor. As more of us stay inside to protect ourselves and each other, we have seen pollution around the world decrease. Our effect on the world around us has never been more apparent.
Noticing the small things and celebrating the diversity of the world cultivates an attitude of learning and growth, discovery and wonder. I see a small moment shared with family, or a collection of raindrops on a blade of grass, with soft eyes. Full of wonder, gratitude, and appreciation, I know it’s with these same soft eyes that God sees me. I am known and loved despite my smallness.
Blessed Ordinary
For a while in college, I thought I might want to be a photographer. I bounced around what I thought I might specialize in – nature, advertising, portraits. A recurring theme of my work that I didn’t recognize at the time, but that persists even today, is my desire to elevate the ordinary.
Life is about showing up and being present, even if it feels less than what we’d hoped. It is a collection of small moments, a mosaic of miracles, whether we notice them or not. But the journey is so much sweeter when we pay attention.
As we spend more time with ourselves and our families, we can use this opportunity to create space and practice paying attention to small things. Talk about what you noticed at dinner. Keep a notebook or journal. Snap a photo and then go back and look at it. Opening our eyes to the wonder in the small moments takes practice, like any other skill. But God will meet us there, revealing himself to us in seemingly insignificant and often overlooked ways.
It may be hard to notice the small things in the ordinary (or perhaps not-so-ordinary) rhythm of these days. I hope that we’ll look back on this time as a time of rest and reconnection with ourselves and our families, despite hardships and uncertainties. We’ll be able to look back and see God.
