The Little Things

Today began with a kitty kiss on the mouth. I brushed it away annoyed with being disturbed too early. Then, there was a light tap on the forehead and a soft little “meow”. Finally I opened my eyes to see light coming through my window. I had forgotten to set the alarm and I had to take my elderly mother to the doctor.

Of course, that set my day. I’ve been behind ever since, but it got me thinking, too. About little kisses and pats we try so hard to ignore because we’re just too busy. I got use to stopping and noticing things my children tried to show me. Too often, it was something great. Like a turbulent storm sky, the color of violets with a funnel cloud just over the hill, a shooting star in the night sky, a strange red long-horned beetle I had never seen before.

The world becomes too much and we really need to stop and take more time to just be. And writers need to do this even more. Had I listened to Maddie Rose this morning I’ll just bet I would have been right on time and had much more time to savor the morning.

Still, I got done quickly with the doctor’s visit and the errands, got back home and to my desk in good time. I even got the turkey in the oven and while I type this I am taking a minute to savor the smell of turkey, the sight of Maddie Rose asleep on the bench by my office window with the sunshine glinting over her calico fur. I ought to wake her up, the little stink—for disturbing my sleep, but how can I? She can tell time better than I.

Still, when I write in my notebook tonight, I’m going to include her little kiss with gratitude. I’m going to vow to pay better attention to those kinds of things so I don’t miss the little pockets of wonderful. It’s what makes a great life and it fills my writer’s notebook with just the thing I need for my next story, poem or essay.

I hope for everyone the little things.