I've been stuck lately. Consumed with the thought that nothing I have to share is original, much less inspirational. I type and then backspace, reminding myself with each stroke that what I just thought has not only already been expressed, but expressed more eloquently, or with a sharper wit or a funnier joke.
So I've given in to the backspace and the delete key, and I've talked myself into believing that I'm not special or interesting. In business speak, I have no USP (unique selling position). I'm just like everyone else, with similar experiences and goals. A sheep among the herd, hoping for leopard skin but stuck in pelt.
Sitting down at my desk a few minutes ago, I caught a glimpse of my white board. I try to be serious and organized, and had a color coded list of current and potential projects listed there. My daughter had other ideas, and at some point when I wasn't watching doodled a variety of symbols and words in her own little love letter to me.
Seeing that, I was struck with what I've been missing all this time: even though what I do isn't worthy of being splashed about or pinned or Google-plussed, it is remarkable. The joy and beauty of my multitude of ordinary moments is overlooked when, really, I should be celebrating each one for the miracle it is.
When Erin beams with a big, toothy grin and bright, sparkly eyes because we found a way to twist her wet hair to produce a cascade of beautiful curls in the morning, I am reminded that beauty is everywhere, but only if we care enough to notice and appreciate it.
When Nicholas curls up with me first thing in the morning for a fleeting but warm cuddle before he bounds out of bed and declares 'let's do this thing!', I am reminded that it takes only a moment to connect, that we should do the most important things first, and that 99% of life is attitude rather than circumstance.
When Adam brings me my first cup of coffee, with just a little too much half and half, and pecks me on the forehead in his attempt to get me up early, I am reminded that even teenagers know how to say 'I love you' without saying a word.
I forget in my stuckness that I am surrounded by countless things, gestures and people filled with at once ordinary yet miraculous thoughts, desires and wishes. That even though I will never be written about as a hero to many, I am important to the three who call me mom, and that the little choices I make have the power to transform ordinary days to indelible memories.