I’ve written in my diary, but sleep isn’t coming. Going back to the diary and just writing about today isn’t happening, and I’m as interested in the mechanics and constitutionality of the second impeachment trial as who’s succeeding or failing in plans for it.
So until I decided to come over to my computer, I lay in the dark thinking of what else I could write about. This close (about an hour) to writing about my day, I started thinking of the tiny things that distinguished today: being able to get some carrot cake at the corner store, finding the stairs at the front door shoveled and thawed, and trying to decide between my next library book (of five I’ve ordered) and the biography I’m reading from Dad’s collection.
I realized slowly that the little things are actually big helps in the present limits of the pandemic, as relaxed as they’re getting. On separate days recently:
— I found some more ponytail holders in a pack I thought I’d finished, so I have strong ear loops for my homemade masks again.
— I met a neighbor walking his dog, and all I had to say was “Hello!” before the little dog ran forward on her extendable leash to say hello back. I still don’t think she’s as starved for attention as she wants me to think.
— I got a call from the library and found out that the “items” they held for me were my whole five-item list.
— I went out to the suburbs by bus, L train and cab, and I picked up my cello’s bow from the repair shop where I’ve been taking it for years. Talking to the people there about the great work they do, and how welcome they make me feel, is a happy memory.
So if you’re frustrated because big things aren’t happening, take a few moments to re-focus. Look for the smaller things that are happening, the things that are differentiating your days.
The gift of noticing and appreciating small things may be something positive we can gain from these days.
Meanwhile, I think I’ve written enough. Good night, readers.
Margaret Serious has a page on Facebook.
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