Disclaimer: originally published on Medium, September 30, 2013.
I always hear people talk about those special, amazing, once in a lifetime moments. I hear about saying “I do”, about getting that promotion, about a magical vacation to the Bahamas, about holding their child the first time. These are the moments that people seem to latch onto to define their identity, their basis for how their life went.
I haven’t had many moments like that yet. I don’t think I’ve ever held a newborn and to the best of my knowledge I have never been married.
For a time, it bothered me. I always feel like I’ve been missing defining moments and watching life pass me by. I don’t really do much.
I think part of growing up must be struggling with identity. I’m always asking myself “who are you?” and “what exactly makes a Phil?”, and these are things I don’t really have an answer to. I don’t really know who I am yet. I don’t even know who I really want to be.
I always thought that with those big-picture moments I’d find out who I am, but lately I’ve started to realize that maybe it’s all the little things I take for granted.
Every Sunday night, no matter what happened, I sat down with my closest friends to watch Breaking Bad. It was a simple gesture, a small communion between us. That feeling of having a few great friends and making sure we all did that together, that was pretty wonderful. Maybe I’ll remember it in five years; in twenty, I doubt I will.
But even if that dulls and fades, we’ll still have done it.
I’ve already forgotten the moment some six months ago when I purchased clothing because I liked the way it looked, not because it was all I could find that fit. I know it happened, but I can’t remember it too well. I doubt, in two years, I’ll remember it.
But I did it, and I know it changed me.
I don’t remember the first time I met any of my roommates, and we’re thick as thieves now.
But meeting them, that sure happened, and it really changed my life.
While I can certainly remember my trip to Starbucks five hours ago, I can scarcely remember the half dozen I made this week, despite how happy going there makes me.
I guess it’s because these are all normal things. They’re the daily mundane. The little rituals that keep us going.
It’s a good life I lead. I have pretty good friends. I work pretty hard and I get to see my own improvement over the last few years. Maybe it’s okay that I don’t really remember most of these great moments. They happened, and even if I forget them, I think that all those little daily rituals and mundane little happenings are what define me.
These are the moments I will forget; they will fade and leave, and time will steal them from me.
But to lead a life full of these moments,even though they’re the moments I’ll forget, that wouldn’t be so bad after all.
So here’s to the mundane. Here’s to the things that I’ll forget. Here’s to the little rituals that make up my day.
Here’s to the little things; at the end of it all, I think they make us who we are.
Thanks to Jordan Scales .
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