Today I realized that I smile at the littlest things, and I thought: Is that why I became a life coach? It’s funny, but we are always so busy moving from home to work to errands, to home and work again, that we tend not to really take in the tiny little things that can really make us smile; for example, today while walking my dog, I started out very chilled, but as we walked on, I noticed that the sun’s rays were beaming so magically directly onto our path, momentarily changing the appearance of my dog’s locks from their usual peach-tone to blonde, that I smiled as I thought to myself: Wow, how beautiful . . . and how lucky he was to be a natural strawberry blonde. I couldn’t help but smile as I thought if he only knew how much money us women spend trying to get our locks to be strawberry blonde, he’d probably take the bottle of dye and bury it in the backyard and tell us we were just silly humans with our priorities all mixed up; because after all, he doesn’t care about the color of his hair — only that there are no fleas or ticks or knots in it — and that that money would be better spent on a cushier bed nook for him.
As we continued on, I realized there seemed to be an uptick in the squirrel population, as well as in the pace at which they went about their daily activities. Many of them were carrying nuts and pine cones, while others were either busy running away from us in fear or chirping angrily at us as though we were intruding on their privacy. The idea that I may actually be intruding on them again made me smile, and I realized: Maybe they’re just like us. Maybe they need privacy. Maybe they need a quiet place to recharge at the end of a long, hard nut-collecting day, and I thought: Wow, wouldn’t that be amazing if that were the case? Again I smiled as I thought maybe we’re not so different after all. Hard to fathom, but not so hard if you go to the Natural History Museum and find that we all seem to have evolved from the same basic little creature.
I have so many premature smile lines that my children tell me it ages me, but they like it I’ve come to realize that every moment, whether it’s life-changing or not, is so very special, yet so terribly fleeting that we fail to notice. That’s why we need to learn to be aware. We need to notice as we scamper from work to home to grocery store to pharmacy and back home again all the little things. We need to crunch through those leaves before bagging them up. We need to skip to our car once in awhile humming a happy tune. Only we can transform the mundane. Imagine how fast our daily chores would go by if we put on our favorite songs and danced our way through them. Imagine yourself being able to say, even after all hell’s broken loose at the office, “Well, the day wasn’t so bad. After all, I got the grocery shopping and laundry done, put the garbage by the curb and the kids to sleep all while doing the Cha-Cha.” That would be transformational.