Every Little Thing

Chinese take out...is there anything more American?

Last night, I sat around my parent’s living room and watched the election coverage. We ate Chinese food out of Styrofoam boxes while the girls pushed strollers around the hardwood floors. The TV was loud and my family, for once, was quiet. Between the nail biting and down to the wire-ing, I had some time to think.

I try to write about little things here. Our lives are made of so many itty, beautiful, tiny, profound moments and feelings. When I write about them I feel like I connect to people that at first blush seem different than me. Because oh my goodness, you have had a moment like that under a sky like this too? Maybe we aren’t so different, after all.

Last night felt like a big thing. After all the food was eaten and the girls put to bed, I sat up and tried to find the words. And after a few sentences here and more backspaces there, I stopped. Maybe I am afraid. After all, nobody wants to be the earnest girl with the big opinion in an open space where nobody cares. Or maybe it was just too much work trying to type something meaningful with one hand while eating popcorn with the other. Yes, it was probably that.

What, I thought, about the big things?

Whether last night kicked you in the gut or sent you to the moon isn’t really the point of this post. There will be plenty of those written today and tomorrow and the day after that. We live in a country filled with people that can’t always find common ground on big things. I suppose this is something that shouldn’t be surprising in a nation filled with millions of different people with different dreams and different ideals. It can be interesting, difficult, enlightening and downright frustrating. And in the light of this pink flecked morning, I have decided to make peace with it.

Because today we have the little things.

And today that is more than enough.