I took some time this past weekend to calmly and slowly close my laptop and step away from my desk, pretty much without incident.
The truth is I had things on my calendar to do this weekend. Work things. And just grown-ass-woman things. Like taxes. 👎🏼
But something happened Saturday morning I didn’t expect that changed the weekend for me: I made cinnamon rolls from scratch and saw the light.
🤚🏼I cannot make this stuff up.
Amidst having every freggin’ baking ingredient, special tool and appliance on the counter, I stopped long enough to catch the next step in the recipe and the shadows of the all the shinta on the counter moved in unison across my hand.
It was sunny outside. Nine thirty on a Saturday morning and the April light in my kitchen was beautiful.
I realized that the 9:30 AM light in my kitchen isn’t as familiar to me as the 5:30 PM light.
It’s way better.
All at once I was in a Hallmark movie scene enjoying the flash of an unspecific moment in time as a kid Saturday morning cooking with my mom. Just noticing the sunlight in my house made this little moment with me alone in the kitchen feel familiar, warm and full. The ease of moving around, messing things up, experimenting, playing, having no where to go, no place to be. Exactly what I like from a Saturday morning. And I emerged myself in it.
Just the night before I was texting a friend who was struggling to be fully present and really enjoy her family or basically any non-work-oriented commitment. Not to say she “enjoys” work more than her peeps, but the expectations of outsiders - clients, bosses, colleagues - can win the battle of our attention sometimes… even though the people we love totally win our hearts. Working at home also gives less buffer space between the work pressure and the pleasure of home - you have to be intentional about unplugging for the day. I love it, but it’s still a struggle after 5 whole years of it.
This, appreciating and being fully aware in the moment was the advice I had actually needed for myself. It’s been a long time since I stopped and appreciated a little moment in a big way. It’s been here for weeks, but I hadn’t even really noticed Spring’s influx of green in the woods behind our house.
Something incredible happens when we really tune into our senses in any given moment, appreciate - with real intentional gratitude and wonder. It's joy. Simple and even little, but mighty. We are not lost in the worry or to-do’s of the future or ruminating about the past - fully engulfed in the moment.
Checking off to-do’s, meeting our deadlines, finishing projects…. it’s so satisfying. But I'm convinced that finding real satisfaction in the little moments will lend itself to creating a much much bigger life.