Nothing small is ever small

I’ve been sitting in front of my PC, writing nearly all afternoon. And I can’t tell you precisely what a beautiful thing is this simple uninterrupted time. To write. There’re no friends of mine visiting my place who would insistently whisk me out for oodles of drinks. No dating, he-he; no such kinda thing happening in my life these days. And no phone calls from my parents and office.

I love this uninterrupted time to just write, ah. And as I write here, this afternoon, I get caught in a cycle of thinking that I felt off in any way. I’ve this urge, as I always do, to anticipate for something new, next big thing. A different job, a bigger income, achieve big things, a posh lifestyle, travel all over the world, meet new people, and settle down abroad. Yes, I’ve been anticipating for this next big thing for a long time. I wanted, always, something big to focus on up ahead as if to keep myself zestful and moving and to keep ordinary away.

But oddly, quite wondrously, my mornings start with the same beginnings. As usual, my alarm rings at 7:30 am. I run into the same kitchen and cook my breakfast-mostly tea and bread. After the wash-up, like always, I do my hair and wear gho. And the route I walk down my office greets me with familiar sights. The same road cleaners, the same trees and buildings, the rush of cars, and the same people marching towards their works. All day, in my office, I meet same colleagues, ring phones, and same works.

My days also end with the same closings. After 5 pm, I return home, drink coffee, watch TV, read books, cook dinner, and sleep. Also, there’re other everyday rituals which are purely mundane. I call my parents and friends, sometimes a brief talk; other times, a longer conversation, but mostly insignificant chat in particular. I check my mail, log on/log out of Facebook and Twitter, wash dishes, water flowers, and rummage my closet.

Always, it’s the same. Everyday. In fact, so inevitably, I get upset over all this mundane things I’ve to do every day. That’s why I anticipate (or more aptly, I aspire desperately) something different, something big, something that would change my life altogether.

But eventually, gradually, I’m learning that our life doesn’t have to be so full of big things, big change. Instead, I’m realizing that all this insignificant activities are part of me. These activities are so ordinary, yet offer deep sense of comfort and peace. All through my mundane routine, there’s an umbrella of comfort that accompanies me. It provides an overriding sense of belonging, comfort, and grace.

And any next big thing will just happen as a result of truly living those small things. Some days I even feel I could write a book on what I’ve been taught through all my mundane activities. I must say that nothing is really small anyway. That’s what I think, at least for now.