The small things

As a writer, even though I’m a fairly private person, there a lot of private things that affect what it is that I choose to write, how inspired I feel at any given moment, and so on. Sometimes it’s hard to write when you’re keeping a lot in. Things in our lives affect our perspectives and interests. That’s the case with me.

When you’re dealing with big things, the medium ones seem so much less significant. And yet, the smallest things are those that give life so much more meaning. A dog’s enthusiastic (and at times, slobbery) greeting. A warm beverage shared with caring friends. The ‘magic hour’ walks with loved ones, even when you don’t want to go. Anger that turns into laughter because of the absurdity of it all. Humor, even when it hurts to laugh. A good night’s sleep. Normalcy.

Because, you see, these are actually the big things. Family. Friends. Moments we get to share together.

I’m not saying that everything else doesn’t matter. Of course it does. But when you’re forced to dig …