“Love the Little Things… A Lot”

Laura - Menomonie, Wisconsin
Entered on November 5, 2007

I notice a blade of grass bend when a lady bug lands on it and the way a wisp of cloud can make a mask for the moon. I watch for shooting stars and wish on the ones I’m lucky enough to see. I admire the silhouette of a naked winter forest against the grayness of a twilight sky. I adore the gap between my sister’s front teeth and the birthmark on the palm of my father’s hand. I have a passion for detail and find that the tiny facets, follicles, and fragments of life bring me the greatest delight.

Appeasement is not something that comes easily for me because I become entrapped in a greater picture and forget to take pleasure in the moments that make it up. When I lose admiration for simple things I am lost myself. I sometimes forget that life is like pointillism; each speck of color makes up the painting as a whole.

I have come to realize that I am a compilation of every tiny second of my life. I commit to memory the moments that make my cheeks flush with utter enjoyment. Like jewels these favored recollections rest in the treasure chest of my mind. They resurface, brought on by something small like a new chord change in a melody made antique through repetition. When my friend and I are the only ones dancing in a room full of sound and the band is roaring like train tracks through the amps, all I can do is smile and bite the fat of my bottom lip while every time I’ve savored the song rushes through my mind, reinventing recollections as if they were all occurring at once. Or how the crunch of a crimson autumn leaf beneath my feet sweeps cobwebs off ancient thoughts, birthing me to a childhood memory in the apple orchard. Here I grip my mother’s hand with caramel covered fingers; I am full of apprehension from the presence of bees. I run recklessly from them under the brilliant blue of September’s sky. Sun burn brings me the splash of ocean water kissing my skin with salt. I bear rope burn while I help my father tack the mainsail of our catamaran. The sound of wind being ensnared by billowing white canvas is engraved into my mind. These thoughts are rare sketches until something small sparks them to life and ignites my consciousness into a state of flurried pleasure. A single snowflake is enough to make the bliss of twenty Christmases enkindle.

All the experiences I have had add to the detail of who I am. I am the love struck stars of Lake Tahoe, I am the blaze of an Arizona summer, I am the cool blue of the Caribbean Sea, and I am the emerald pastures of the Mid-West. When I feel the weight of day after day pressing on me I begin to take things for granted, but I believe that happiness is hiding in the details of life and I can always find it if I look hard enough.

When I am discontent the world finds ways of reminding me not to take myself too seriously; with a smile from a stranger, a letter from my grandmother, a phone call from my best friend, or a hug from my room mate. I believe that when the greater picture becomes overwhelming, the best way to overcome it is to rise above and see the beauty of that which is within reach. I am happiest when I allow myself time to appreciate the small things– because it’s little moments that make big memories, and in the end all that’s left of life is what you can remember of it.