The Small Things

It was a typical Saturday, late in the afternoon, we were coming home from the Mass, and my father, who was driving, turns towards whoever was sitting in the passenger seat, saying, “Ahh? Did you say ‘Pizza’? OK! We’ll go get pizza!”

Mind you, my father would say, ‘Ahh?’ as if some derivative of the classic ‘Eh?’ that people would often say, as a replacement for ‘What?’ or ‘Whaaa?’

With the silence now shattered, the Passenger, which would be either one of my brothers or myself, would start calling my Father crazy for hearing things, and deny saying anything in the first place, yet my Father remains unaltered and drives us to whatever pizza place he had in mind…

The following Saturday, the cycle continues…

I asked him one day, why he got pizza every weekend, and he told me that in Mexico, he never got any pizza. It was a simple joy in his life, and he relished it, however small. To me, being raised on such a luxury, pizza, was hardly considered a luxury at all, but more like an insignificant morsel, at ready access whenever a whim moves me so, yet for my Father, Pizza was fascinating, it was always something new to him, always something to be enjoyed and always something that brought happiness.

Rule 32: Enjoy the Little Things

I can see it now, the hard days that just beat you down, the unforgiving people who are too caught up in their own affairs, those times when it feels like all of the world is on your shoulders and your new name is Atlas, but then, something comes along and makes you smile. A little girl gives you a flower, someone you never knew smiles sincerely at you, you catch that whiff of a freshly brewed coffee, a Sun rise, a tasty treat that you never had access to before.

This was Pizza for my Father, no matter how bad the days, there was always something small and seemingly insignificant that helps him get through, that lightens the load, if only an ounce. Granted, he had great times with us, but this was during the mundane parts of the year, when routine sucks one’s soul, and the world feels gray, every weekend, Pizza rejuvenated him, if only for that week.

And so, I know now that I have to find the small things in life, things that might not matter to anyone else, but me, or things that people pay no mind to, and find such pure joy within them. I know I already have some, and I know that there will always be more, yet, through my Father, I’ve learned the power behind something so small, heh, kind of like Hope, it’s small, fragile, and can be utterly stamped out, yet it still remains, so long as one person is willing to go out to search for it…… or if he happens to be the driver.

For me, I’ve always relished intangible things, such as a strong wind, or Rain, or the Stars, or even clouds, just standing there and experiencing such things brings me to peace. Yet, I’m not without my treats, I’m a complete sucker for chocolate, I often joke that if there was Chocolate-flavored poison, I’d drink it.

But the point is that these small things are needed. They need to be there in one’s life to give them a breath of freshness, when it seems pointless to keep going, or trying so hard. An act so small, can give someone such a sensation that their entire lives and perspectives are changed through such an act.

Whatever it is that brings you joy, however small and insignificant it may be, please enjoy it, because it’s meant for you.


2 comments on “The Small Things

  1. 16sedici16 says:

    I like this. It makes me wonder what the small things are for me. Hmm, a clean house maybe… my first cup of tea in the morning or a glass of full-bodied red vivo in the evening. Thanks! I think I needed this. Again, this “gratitude” bug is following me around giving me daily reminders. Thank you 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s