Our recent road trip meant a little extra reading time. While I love fiction, I’ve been on a bit of non-fiction kick lately and used the extra downtime to finish Brene Brown’s book, I Thought It Was Just Me.
In her book she says “[W]e equate ordinary with boring, or even more dangerous, ordinary has become synonymous with meaningless.” That thought sat with me; then I sat with it. I kept coming back to it. I mean, I want an extraordinary life. Who doesn’t?
But here’s the thing, maybe extraordinary has been hyped a bit too hard. Not every taco you eat can be “the world’s best taco.” Not every sunset can be more brilliant than the last. Sometimes it takes ordinary for us to see the world for what it really is.
There is merit in waking up at the same time every day to drink the same coffee so you can peel your eyes open enough to do the same job today that you did yesterday. I’m not talking about living a joyless, adventure-less, stuck-in-a-rut life where your most complicated decision is a tan or khaki pants and rye or wheat for lunch.
What I’m trying to say is that ordinary matters. It counts for something too. Only when our lives are ordinary can we encounter extraordinary.
Be faithful in small things because it is in them that your strength lies. Mother Theresa
No comments:
Post a Comment