There's an old saying that goes, "it's the little things." I think it was Confucious who said it. It's very profound. But I believe in its power. I often mentally and verbally (and literally) make this statement and keep coming back to the point that seems to want to remind the world to come back to the basics, that life is really about the simple joys. I take note of the simple joys and mark them in my mental notebook as another tally in favor for joy, the mark of a good day, of what can make a day good as long as it's noticed, recorded.
Julian had a rough night of sleep last night. Still, he got himself up and dressed. Hair-mussed and adorably puffy-faced, he came downstairs and talked to me and read a little and ate breakfast. He's probably too old for this but he tolerated me spraying his hair even though he haaates it. He hugged the cats, shared some life philosophies, and then before he left, asked me, "Mom, can I take this book to school?" It was one from our collection of Roald Dahls-- Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. He and I are currently reading a murder mystery and in his wakefulness in the nighttime he needed something lighthearted so a little RD is what he chose. And it just reeeally warmed my heart. That he loves to read, that he is reading Roald Dahl, and that he wanted to take it to school to keep reading. It's the kind of moment where suddenly, you see everything culminating to it flash before your eyes. That crazy flash-forward montage you see in movies. All the steps leading to here--
FLASH: Me reading it as a kid and swearing one day to write like this. FLASH: Me buying these books as an adult. FLASH: Hoping to read them to a kid. FLASH: Having baby. FLASH: reading them to him when he's old enough (which we have, by now. Most of them at least). FLASH: him being old enough to read them himself. FLASH: today, this morning, that moment.
It is the little things.