The Small Things

Lately, I have been very grateful for the small pleasures that pop up out of large chaos (aka my life).

The other day I went to the grocery store and heard "Please Mr. Postman" playing over the speaker-system. I smiled to myself and immediately began mouthing the words in a way that would not be too noticeable -- singing to oneself in the grocery store is not cool -- to the others in the breakfast food isle. Then an employee in his 40s or 50s walked down the isle to add some cereal boxes to the shelf. And as he worked, he whistled. He whistled the tune of "Please Mr. Postman" and it made me SO HAPPY! Seriously, he validated my love of oldies, my desire to sing along with The Marvelettes and brightened my whole day simply by whistling a song. It was GREAT!

A week and a half ago, my friend had a birthday party -- complete with balloons. The balloons resided in a house this particular friend group frequents, so over the past 10 days we've...played with balloons. It must look like the craziest thing to see a group of 20-somethings passionately playing balloon volleyball games as if they were 8-years-old again but playing those games has made me feel better than I have felt in months. I'm so grateful for my friends and their balloons. :)

The smile of a small child can change my life. And recently Caroline, Annie, Ellianna, Jackson, Shikindra, Kyeesha, Deveontre and Maequan (who is actually a teenage, not a small child, but has a great smile anyway) have all given me small bursts of joy.

Did you know that the sky could be seven different, vibrant colors all in the course of three hours? As I was driving to Colorado yesterday, I was o'erthrown (sorry, the Shakespearean term is, actually, needed here :)) by the color of the sky. At once it was 5 different shades of blue -- each more beautiful than the next and separated by clouds that looked like swirled cream. Then, as the sun set, an intense pink lined the horizon, the sun bursting from behind the gathering clouds. Finally, the sky turned a deep purple (I tried to think of some clever pun about the rock band "Deep Purple" to put here but, alas, my thoughts were in vain) as the sun descended behind the rising mountains. I don't remember ever seeing the sky quite that kind of purple before and said a small prayer of thanks, in awe, for the creation around me.

All this having been said, was it wrong for me to cringe when I heard a U.S. senator on NPR equate chasing a greased-up pig with Americana and strong, upstanding, Christian citizens? Perhaps my negative reaction came from a legitimate fear that state representatives think cruelty to animals is a positive American tradition. Or, perhaps it rose from the dark, snooty place inside me where my pride resides. If the later is the case, perhaps I should just get over myself and let others enjoy small pleasures for themselves... : )