The (never quite so small) small moments

Today was the first day of spring.

There are those that argue that spring starts on the equinox in March, but in Hanover, NH, this is a finely hewn piece of fiction. Better late than never. Today, upon setting foot out the door, I took off my leather jacket, stuffed it in my bag, and let the wind billow my shirt as I slipped on my wayfarers and giggled in the sunshine like a child of summer. I passed several girls dressed as though they were afraid to hope for the actuality of spring: underneath the cute dresses and the flirty skirts, they still sported leggings and boots. A dear friend who I met for coffee was dressed much the same way, and I began to think that my Californian roots were pushing me prematurely toward short sleeves, but I was simply delighted that the sun was shining. Sleeves seemed an affront to the nice weather.

K and I took our coffee into the sunshine, and ended up settling on the stone steps of one of the oldest buildings on campus. The structure's white exterior glowed in the afternoon light, and reflected warmth onto our backs. Being set up a bit on a hill, the steps allowed us to overlook the hubbub that was the campus scene below us - students hurrying from one activity to another, families relaxing and enjoying the day on the green, people playing frisbee - life was proceeding with a vigor that could only come from the reappearance of grass, blue skies, and sunshine. 

It is the small moments that are the memorable ones, and sitting on the steps was one such moment. In that moment I found myself deeply at peace, and deeply grateful for many aspects of that moment - the beautiful scene that I was surrounded by, my friendship with the gorgeous and wildly talented person sitting next to me, my deep sense of inner peace, my access to a world class education, and my post collegiate plans. We both sat there and said, this is how we should be living. This is how life is supposed to be lived, and how our final term at this truly magical place should be. It was a moment of clarity that I think we both will act on.

No wonder the small moments are the most memorable. They are rarely as small as we name them, and they are the times in which we are most present. They move in slow motion because, for a rare moment, we are actually noticing and appreciating all that is occurring. They are the moments when inspiration is born, when clarity strikes, when the world seems both vast and minuscule at the same time, when time falls away and we are left, simply, with understanding and that often chased, ever elusive sense of grace.

I've spent the rest of the day smiling, re-enchanted with world. Better late than never.

Maggie