When we think about significant memories, we often think about people and milestone events. We remember how we felt in the presence of someone we love. We remember what it was like to try something new, build something together, complete a goal, or watch a new possibility unfold. All of these moments matter.
But can you also think of times when you were simply present and noticed something relatively ordinary?
I remember being five years old and lying with my head in my Mom’s lap during a church meeting. Sunlight was streaming through a window, and I could see dust specks drifting and swirling in the beam of light. That memory is still vivid.
I also remember traveling on a bus through Germany during my college years. At one point we stopped because someone had noticed cherries for sale along the side of the road. They were dark, almost black cherries, perfectly in season. I remember how alive I felt in that moment. Time seemed to slow down as I took a bite and savored the taste.
I remember looking out the window of my current home and watching a baby bunny grow up in my yard over the course of several weeks.
None of these moments were milestones. They were small, quiet experiences. But sometimes those moments stay with us too. Sometimes they remind us what it feels like to be attentive, to slow down, to be fully present.
Maybe we need more moments like that. Or maybe we simply need to notice them when they happen.
—Renee Roederer
Smuggling Grace 