This year…actually, the past couple of years, have been BIG…as you know, fellow traveller. I met, dated, got engaged to and 8 weeks ago married the love of my life and we had a big wedding full of love and friends and family; we found and decorated and moved into our first home together; my sister and cousin both got engaged; friends have had new houses and babies and other milestones; Dan has almost completed his post-doc; I have been on the dream job roller-coaster which included a trip to Rio last year… There have been so many BIG moments – I’ve loved them. I love celebrating, I love marking events, I love making a big deal out of the people I love.
Christmas is a season of big moments, often, too. We hang out with friends we don’t usually see; we cook meals Jamie Oliver (might) (maybe) (possibly) be proud of; we sing beautiful songs; we make an effort to make our homes look pretty; we plan outings to see The Hobbit and The Hunger Games and Annie; we see awe-inspiring shows; etc… Instagram is busier at this time of year than at any other. And say what you will – I love it.
I also think I’m having big moment fatigue. I’m craving sweet quiet and stillness. And I’m glad for this craving that is reminding me not to miss the small stuff.
It reminds me that all of it is sacred. Frederick Buechner writes,
Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery it is. In the boredom and pain of it, no less than in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it, because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace.
I’m typing in my warm pyjamas, over a tasty breakfast, next to Dan. There are no cute little carolers, sparkling Christmas trees, or tasty gingerbread. We are quiet, still, breathing. It’s not a big moment, but it’s a perfect moment. It’s what I need.
We have been blessed by wonderful big moments recently. I’m so grateful for them. But I’m also thankful for the little moments, those moments of peace and no decorum when the simple things are unwrapped and appreciated. I don’t want these to be eclipsed by all the big moments. Because they’re sacred, unique, fragile, too. The recent loss of someone so loved by so many in our community has reminded us that all is to be embraced, tasted, valued in the light of no promise that it will ever return.
A hug from a friend.
Smiles on familiar faces.
Small victories at work.
Coming home to each other.
A moment of quiet.
Sitting down to read a well-written book.
Friends around the table.
Here’s to big moments, little moments, and appreciating them all this Christmas.