When I was young, I once drove to Wyoming in a snow storm with a boyfriend on a whim. We got caught in the mountain overpasses by a whiteout, and we were getting scared for our safety because my headlights were aimed oddly and I had no fog lights in my ancient Toyota. We were eventually led out of the passes by some truckers, and continued on our way. Even though we had been frightened, the entire experience was exactly that, an Experience. It was one of those moments of youth that you look back on a thrill over.
The true tragedy in life isn’t that the world gets mundane and loses it’s thrill as we age. There are as many fantastic and terrifying experiences that come with thirty as there were with 19. In fact, the stakes are higher now than they have ever been, I should be over the rooftops with thrill. I am daily surrounded by everything I ever dreamed of when I was young.
No, the real tragedy is that we never realize the thrill, until years have passed. When we are young, we long for our adulthood and minimize our youth. As adults, we long for our youth and stress over our adulthood.
The real tragedy is never being thrilled with where you are.
Oh, there are some moments of perfect realization, a few of those experiences that break through life like the sun breaks through the clouds. Radiating their heat, their thrill, into our very souls, and screaming “This. This is what I live for.”
Those moments are rare. They can be a trip to Wyoming, or the first time your child really laughs at something you do, or when your partner looks at you in just the right way. The first time you do what you trained so long to do, or the first promotion, the first word, the first step.
Why can’t they be found in the laundry? Or the dishes? Or the TPS reports? Those are the places where we build the foundation for those moments. No one lives to starve, or go broke, or wear filthy clothes all the time. You need the mundane in order to create stage for your life to play across. Without the sweat and repetition of life, there is nowhere for the magic to happen.
We should be thrilled to have the mundane. We should look around our lives, and we should say, I am thrilled to be here, knee deep in dirty dishes, surrounded by cleaning products, buried in paperwork, stuck in traffic.
Why do we wait for the tiny moments, the rare moments, the movie moments, to thrill?