Some days are picture perfect–big and bright, colorfully nuanced, blooming like a show-offy prize-winning rose.
Those are the days when you wake three minutes before the alarm, energetic and enthusiastic to take on whatever-may-come. The days when the sunlight glints on every surface and the temperature is just right, not too warm or too chill. The days when one steaming mug of coffee or bone China cup of Darjeeling is all it takes to get you going and the whole grain toast pops up at exactly your preferred degree of doneness. The days when even your dog keeps in perfect rhythm with your step the whole jog around the block, foreshadowing good things to come.
Those are the days when your clothes don’t need ironing and they fit better than the last time you wore them and the color of your blouse enhances the rosy blush in your cheeks. When you catch every green light on your way and everyone you pass smiles and even the conflict you knew to anticipate dissolves into nothingness. When you find an unexpected check in the mail alongside the oh-so-fun Etsy package you ordered as a birthday gift for your neighbor, and your kids have managed to prepare a simple meal that you don’t have to salvage.
Those days are miracles. You fall into bed three minutes before bedtime and breathe in and out a deeply contented sigh, “Miraculous.”
Other days are simpler, quieter, like an uncomplicated autumn yellow chrysanthemum.
Those days you might wake up with the alarm. You might also hit snooze a time or two. You down two mugs of coffee and put on an extra layer before leashing the dog who yanks hard toward every other bush, which makes you slightly late so that you have to cut your route short.
Those are the days when you try on three outfits before settling on the one that needs ironing but to save time you toss it in the dryer on the “wrinkle release” setting while you take an extra slurp of coffee. The toast doesn’t exactly burn, but it’s disappointing–and you know life is too short for disappointing toast–so you chunk it in with the dog’s food and grab a yogurt cup instead.
Those are the days when, like your dog peeing on every other bush, you hit every other red light. When your preoccupied boss doesn’t smile but that might not mean anything and your work requires more concentrated effort yet you find yourself daydreaming out the window while the warm breeze tosses the leaves like fun-size candy on Halloween. When the mailbox contains bills and political ads and the kids are squabbling and no one can agree on what you should prepare for dinner.
Those ordinary days aren’t bad. They are most days, typical, unexceptional, average days…and they’re still miraculous.
