Every December, I evaluate the year that was and envision the new one to come. I consider a variety of resolutions and themes that will optimize the 365 fresh days before me. I outline routines and research habits that will make them better than the previous 365. Despite best intentions, however, the flip of a calendar page rarely brings notable change.
The truth is - this year probably won’t be much different than the last. Some days will be incredible – promotions, vacations, accomplishments, holidays, celebrations. Some will be painful – illness, loss, struggle, loneliness. Mostly though, the days will be ordinary. We’ll stand in line at the store; walk the dog; go to work; wait on hold; worry about to-do lists.
A good friend of mine is 99-years-old. When I ask him about the highlights of his long stretch in this world, he rarely mentions the extreme highs or lows. Rather, he tells me about the late nights he sat up with a sick child; collaborations with co-workers; card games with friends; conversations with his grandchildren; car rides with his wife. Ordinary moments - beautiful, precious, irreplaceable.
So often, we focus on the handful of exceptional days. We fixate on the one accident rather than the thousand safe arrivals; the seven-day vacation rather than the fifty-one weeks in the security of own home.
Instead of waiting for the amazing or bracing for the devastating, we can do our best inside the ordinary day we have - speak the truth, do the right thing, make and repair mistakes, linger with someone who needs our company. When we pass by the quiet moments and small encounters, we miss the wonder of typical days -in our communities and at our jobs; in our houses and around our tables.
This new year, I’m taking a different approach. I’m not going to add, delete, or modify anything. I have no ambition to learn a foreign language or start a gratitude journal; cut sugar from my diet or join a gym. Instead, I will hope to have a year like every other. Sometimes thrilling things will happen. Sometimes heartbreaking things will happen. For the most part, however, regular things will happen. What a privilege it is – another ordinary year.
Comments