This morning commenced like the day before. I slid into my black slippers, the comfort of the soft fabric helping me ease into the day. I opened the blinds in the living room, the light shining on my face, surprising me with its welcome. My feet clanked across the kitchen – I could hear the familiar complaint of my husband and my daughter in my ear – tread softly, but I’ve never managed the art of walking gracefully. I smiled as this thought bubbled in my head. Grabbing my cup, I glanced at the familiar words etched on the side of my favorite coffee mug, “Write Here, Write Now.” I relaxed at the sound of coffee dripping with a rhythm I adore.
With one sip of warm goodness I attempted to assess whether I need to feel different or majestic since transitioning into 2016. Hours before we were anchored by another year. And now another. My morning didn’t usher in epiphanies like a magician pulling tricks from behind his ear. I’ve never quite understood the revelry around New Year’s Eve. Ringing in another year is yet another marker of the passage of time I find increasingly difficult to digest. I’ve talked repeatedly about my need to hold on. I clench my fists harder and curse the calendar. It keeps turning its pages almost carelessly, not caring about how painful it is to move from one moment to the next.
As I moved through the day, I grazed my way through my moments doing what I enjoyed – a morning run with the mountains as my backdrop, the combination of the sun and the cool breeze accompanying each step, watching my daughter play tennis with my husband, listening to music as I rode my bike and marking midday with lunch with my family. There was also time for reading, writing, some work and laughs at jokes that my family would only understand. Everything so ordinary. But so right. This commemoration of 2016 settled in a way which felt easy and light, but I’ve found this is the essence of paying attention to the magic in the mundane. It’s always those everyday moments that sustain me heralding me with its familiarity, cushioning the sorrow and melancholy of time’s sword.
Today I appreciated the clarity of the blue skies. The ability to run. The morning phone call to my mom. The comfort of my office. The joy of tapping on my computer. Teasing my husband on a quirk I only know about. Drinking cold, ice tea in the middle of the afternoon. Texting a few friends. Thinking about my word of the year. Taking a deep breath. Cleaning the oven (yes, even this). Perusing Facebook and reading blogs. And this, rereading a quote I absolutely think is the best advice to usher everyday, not just the swift turn of the calendar:
Be kind to yourself in the year ahead.
Remember to forgive yourself, and to forgive others. It’s too easy to be outraged these days, so much harder to change things, to reach out, to understand.
Try to make your time matter: minutes and hours and days and weeks can blow away like dead leaves, with nothing to show but time you spent not quite ever doing things, or time you spent waiting to begin.
Meet new people and talk to them. Make new things and show them to people who might enjoy them.
Hug too much. Smile too much. And, when you can, love.”
– Neil Gaiman
My wish for you and me, to have more of this ordinary life. Let 2016 commence.
Welcome! I am a lawyer turned freelance writer, essayist, and editor. On staff at Literary Mama and the co-founder and co-editor of the literary journal, The Sunlight Press, my essays and reported work have appeared in The Washington Post, The Lily, Saveur, Civil Eats, Brain, Child, ESPN and elsewhere. I am currently at work on a memoir on grief and culture and how it provides perspective on life’s ordinary graces. I invite you to appreciate the ordinary with me. I hope my daily practice of seeing the magic in the mundane helps you celebrate and find more of these moments in your life too.
Oh, yes, agreed Rudri! Your ordinary day sounds extraordinary and that’s the point.
Honoring the ordinary is particularly calming at the turn of another year. Happy New Year, Dana. Looking forward to reading your words in 2016.
Wishing you many more happy days like these. Happy New Year!
Thanks, Ayala. Wishing you the best in 2016. xo
Happy New Year, Rudri! Great advice 🙂
Happy New Year, my friend. Here’s to a year full of friendship and words. xo
The most perfect quote.
Happy New Year, Nina. Wishing you the best. xo
Yes to this. Every word. xox
Thank you. Wishing you a year full of contentment, Lindsey. xo
I love this photograph. The quote is awesome, too. Can’t wait to hear about your word for 2016.
Thanks, Susan. The photograph was taken outside of my home. A brief glimpse, but a memorable image. Happy New Year. xo
I was on another blog today that had Neil Gaiman quotes. They were different, but powerful too. I love that. He has incredible ones!
I always wait for something so magical to inspire my New Year’s posts. But really, just just flow the way anything naturally does.
The ordinary is always comforting to me, especially when the calendar turns to the next year. Its the certainty of it which is soothing. Happy New Year, Tamara.
Happy New Year, Rudri! Thanks for the reminders—always good to hear! Trish
Thanks, Trish. Wishing you a fruitful new year with lots of love, writing and reading. xo
So much yes to this. I know that feeling well–of trying to force that awareness and appreciation of the year’s turn, the calendar’s seemingly arbitrary change. Yet each morning and moment that follows feels wonderfully, perpetually ordinary. You’ve expressed this ambivalence so beautifully here–I loved sinking into your soothing, ordinary morning with you. Here’s to many more. xox
Loved your calming words as always, Dina. Here’s to wishing you a new year filled with breathtaking ordinariness. xo
Beautiful post. Also, this: “Ringing in another year is yet another marker of the passage of time I find increasingly difficult to digest.” Yes! (LOVE the quote.)
Thanks, Sarah. Happy New Year to you too. xo
more of the same! That was my wish/resolution for 2016. I hope to find magic in the mundane. Happy new year. Thank you for sharing your beautiful words with us.
Hoping magic crosses your path, Amy. I find it is always a matter of perspective. Happy New Year. xo
Such a meaningful quote – one that might need to go up on my pin board. Appreciating the extraordinary in the ordinary is definitely a worthy goal. Wishing you a sweet, slower turning new year. xo
I adore many of Gaiman’s quotes, this one in particular. Thanks for the heartfelt wishes regarding the new year. Happy New Year to you too, Lisa. xo
I fear I have nothing intelligent to say, but I wanted to say at the very least how much I love your description of your day. The Gaiman quote is perfect and lovely. And I’m sending you many Happy New Year wishes!
Thanks, Dakota, for your kind words. The Gaiman quote is one that lingers.
Happy New Year, my friend. I always appreciate your insights and they are always welcome in my space. xo