It’s easy to stand on top of a mountain and see beauty.
But for many it’s much harder to see beauty in the everyday.
Like a delicious and colorful dinner that you fail to notice, until someone asks “how’s your dinner?”
I’m a glass-overflowing type of person—which can sometimes frustrate others. But before you get annoyed with me, know that it’s genetic—dopamine hangs out in my brain longer than it does for most people.
Although it comes easy, I still make it a practice to see and call out life’s subtle gifts—moments that are extraordinarily ordinary and complete just as they are.
With the end of summer closing in, I’ve been intentionally slowing down and thinking about what wholeness means to me.
What does it mean to you? Can you remember a moment where you felt you could completely relax into yourself? Maybe you were sitting on the porch watching the sunset, having a cup of tea with a loved one, or on a solo-adventure.
Wholeness is described as a state of robust health. It's undivided or unbroken completeness or totality with nothing wanting.
The following definition of wholeness by Sen from calmdownmind.com really resonates with me.
"Wholeness is very ordinary, it’s very simple, and it does not come with any bursting lights and sounds, it’s the undisturbed calmness inherent to the space that you are." —Sen
Whole moments are simple, and heart filling, and they help us pause when we choose to notice them.
Each evening as I drift off to sleep I ask myself, “what are 3 whole moments that I experienced today?” This simple act was inspired by my Five Minute Journal and more than any other self-help tool, has increased my gratitude for life and all things.
These moments—sometimes I write them down, and sometimes they’re a quiet conversation in my head.
As a child, the start of school always felt like the end of summer. Cole and Will Riley—my two grade-schoolers— went back to school today. As a tribute to our summer, I’d like to share seven of our whole moments with you.
Noticing the branches of a fruit tree hanging over the sidewalk, getting up on our tip toes and grabbing (and then slowly savoring) a few peaches off of a peach tree that we had never noticed on any of our prior walks with our dog Lulu.
An early morning on the lake with Randy, Cole and Will Riley kayaking together in silence, listening to the birds and crickets, and watching the ripples from the soft waves.
Reading in silence side by side on our tummies, our legs interlocked with Cole engrossed in his book, and I, pausing from my material, mentally trying to freeze time.
Making grain-free granola in our kitchen, Cole reading off the ingredients, Will Riley measuring them, and all four of us enjoying our bowls of granola topped with blueberries on the back porch together.
Mountain biking, riding behind the boys and watching them fully engage and get more and more comfortable, and courageous on their bikes.
Sitting on the back porch at dusk, the magic hour, sitting, talking, and telling stories while waiting for our hen to go back into her coop.
Working on blog posts and essays, hearing the boys laugh in unison over and over, looking up to see them both writing in their individual notebooks the exact same information about their favorite basketball players from the 1970s through the 1990s.
Most beauty is found in the everyday.
It’s most easiest found in the present moment.
Here’s to savoring the last few whole moments of summer.