Little Things

I once knew a girl whose head was lost in the clouds. Knowing this girl in a work environment was a challenge, because she was constantly holding up the whole show. We would be trying to go somewhere or organize a group in the office, but Aimee would be off taking photographs or collecting pebbles. We would be worried about meeting a deadline and we would find Aimee talking to a child or watching a storm moving in across the Colorado sky. This girl was an adult, but in my opinion, she was childlike and hopeless. In a job that involved a lot of deadlines, Aimee was the antithesis of organization, punctuality, and deadlines. She was the wrench in the whole operation and sometimes I just wanted to say to her, bitterly - "There is a time and place, Aimee." Though people in the office would sometimes become infuriated by her lack of attention, it was only to a small degree, because the goodness and the gentle nature of her personality made it impossible not to love her. I think deep down, we all wanted to be a little more like Aimee.

I wanted to be like Aimee, because I was inspired by her ability to find beautiful things everywhere she went. Her "the universe is beautiful" attitude usually inspired me to exclaim, "fucking hippies", more in jest than anything else, but it was clear that my side comments stemmed from jealousy and shielded a dream that I might someday see the world like she could. I couldn't understand why I didn't see the things she did. I wanted to be able to notice beauty - in cloud formations, in golden Aspen leaves, vibrant wildflowers, and warm sunlight. I wanted to interact with people who moved me, talk to people who could change my life, listen, share, and create. I thought maybe there was a trick to it all, that she had figured out something that I hadn't, or perhaps, hopelessly, that I just didn't work like that.

When I was homeless in Denver, I lived with Aimee in her yellow bedroom in a simple little house off of Colfax. Despite the seedy reputation of the metropolitan city street, the house was situated close to a beautiful lake that made the rest of the city feel far away. We would spend evenings finger painting, cooking vegetarian meals together, and listening to music. Things were peaceful.

Though I knew this girl for just a brief window of time, she changed my life. She inspired me to live like an 8-year-old. She made me want to live my life like I was seeing the world for the first time. She left me eager to learn and to explore.

Sometimes we need to remember that it is the little things in life that bring us happiness. It is an early morning melody of singing birds or time spent with someone you care about that actually means something. It is the sun coming out after a summer rain storm, a cup of tea, or a compliment from a stranger that makes our day feel special. It is the smell of dish soap - inspiring memories of life in Denver or an e-mail from a friend that makes me feel loved. It's my students, my cat - kick flipping around my house, or being by myself - dancing around to music and feeling magical. I know now that I see every day like this. I know that I'm an 8-year-old/"woooo girl" over sunsets, songs, love, and life, but it took me opening both my eyes and my heart to the world, before I could see.

There's no trick to it, it is simple. There's beauty and magic everywhere, but you have to pay attention. Go forward today and find something beautiful, notice something special, and treasure it as if it is the most important thing in the world. Because, it is.

Orchids I found in Singapore