Getting High on the Little Things

  

January 6, 1883

Happy Birthday, Kahlil Gibran.

If there's ever a time to capture the value of the little things, it's winter.  A time when daylight is fleeting, nights are longer, colder weather convinces us to grow dormant, cravings and moodiness are rampant, and boredom sets in.

It's the best time to get high on the little things in life.

A sprinkling of the little things in my life lately that have served to refresh my own heart.

• The sweet little five-year-old girl in Children's Church Sunday morning with the precious little bow mouth, pointing at the words on her fill-in-the-blank lesson sheet, stopping at one, tapping her lip with her sweet little finger, then looking up at me with bright innocent eyes, and whispering, "This one's hard," before breaking out into an intoxicating smile.  I wanted to take her home and keep her!
• Sitting at my kitchen table Sunday afternoon, drinking a cup of tea while gazing dreamily at the soft white lights glowing iridescently behind the shears.  The lights will stay.  At least through the end of February.  Their beauty brings me calm.
• Heading out to the grocery store Sunday evening and seeing the streetlight reflecting on the pond at the entrance to our subdivision, a stunning, flickering glow on the navy-like water.  I instinctively slowed... and just stared.  And stared.
• Curled up lazily on the sofa Sunday evening, the phone rings, no one bothers to answer the call (ever) and then hearing the voicemail pick up and a distinct wild-and-crazy shout on the other end, erupting into contagious goofy laughter.  Who else?  Gavin.  Our mischievous joker, ornery from his very first breath.  Totally sent me into uncontrollable giggles.
• The moon, full and bright, passing behind the clouds, casting an array of gorgeous blue and gray and amber on the early morning canvas as I was headed out to the gym Monday morning.
• The mentally unstable, overly gregarious defendant in an orange jumpsuit sitting at counsel table yesterday morning, constantly erupting into inarticulate outbursts (pity the court reporter), and then very loudly and distinctly:  "YOU PISS ME OFF!" -- followed by, "YOUR HONOR, I WANT A NEW LAWYER, I DON'T LIKE HIM NO MORE!" -- referring to the young, helpless-looking lawyer who had just moved for a continuance of his client's trial so that he could be obtain a competency exam.  (Keep it together, T... don't look at ANYONE, just keep typing and breathe.)
• Getting an extra hour of rest this morning after deciding to forego the gym and do 25 mins of cardio on my rickety elliptical in my laundry room.
• Opening an email from my future daughter-in-law, and getting chills from a link she shared with me, showcasing a huge, vintage, bursting-with-charm-and-atmosphere, beyond-amazing brick barn in PA that she's chosen for her wedding venue.  

High on the little things brings a revival of the heart.