Wiley's Wisdom

Joy: From the Ground Up

A Good Day March 8, 2015

It’s one thing when I think it. It’s something else entirely when it gets sound out loud by one of my people. Especially when there is nothing in particular that stands out to me as anything special.

That was today around here. It was a pretty standard Sunday in my forever home, except for the loss of an hour for daylight savings time. But even that didn’t seem to get anyone down. I held down the fort while the usual errands were run between dear baby Carter’s naps. It was a stark contrast to yesterday, when the poor little guy hardly napped and his overtired and unhappy self had a ripple effect all the way to my heart. Some laundry was done, and a bit of cleaning. All in all, it was a pretty routine day around here. Big Thinking

So it kind of took me by surprise when I heard my forever dad say it this afternoon. He and mom were relaxing together, which admittedly doesn’t happen nearly as often as it used to, after the errands and laundry and cleaning were done. I was napping nearby, so I’m actually kind of surprised I even heard it all. But I’m so glad I did.

“It’s been a good day,” dad said simply.

And I suppose it had. Especially after the day we had yesterday with all the crying and gnashing of teeth (literally). That’s when I realized that sometimes I think it takes a day like yesterday, a day when nothing seems to go right, to remind us to appreciate days like today.

When nothing out of the ordinary happens. It’s just another day when everything goes as expected. A day when there is time (albeit brief) to pause to reflect on such things. A good day.

It’s one thing when I think it (and I think it all the time). It’s something else entirely when someone says it out loud. Just as simple as dad’s words are the words that form the reason for my acknowledgment of the simple things today.

As ancient Persian philosopher Omar Khayyam put it, “be happy for this moment. This moment is your life.”

 

 

Life and the Living of it October 18, 2014

I used to think I did my best thinking in peace. It was quiet. It was relaxing. And my thoughts raced with big ideas. One of my favorite spots to this day is out by the biggest tree in my backyard paradise. Because every now and then, it’s good to be alone.

I was reminded of this today when my beloved forever family packed up and left me at my forever home alone. Though I was initially a little brokenhearted that I wasn’t invited along to one of my favorite not-so-little-anymore person’s football games, I got over it pretty quickly.

Alone with My ThoughtsIt isn’t often I have the house to myself these days. I couldn’t decide at first where I wanted to relax. I had my pick of the bedrooms, the living room, the basement. I had so many quiet options I struggled a bit to decide. I ended up in the living room in everyone’s favorite chair. It’s the chair everyone chooses to sit in first for a reason I don’t quite understand. I couldn’t get comfortable there, so I tried that crevice between mom and dad’s pillows on the bed. When that didn’t work, I tried the massive display of pillows in the guest room. Still nothing.

That’s when it occurred to me. Silence. It’s not my favorite thing. I’m hardly as anxious as I was as a puppy to be left alone, but the minutes ticked by so slowly this afternoon as I waited not-so patiently for my family to return home.  Minutes turned into hours as I waited by the door, which is admittedly one of the least comfortable places in the whole house.

In total, they were gone less than five hours, but it felt like an eternity. I was so happy to see them when they got home. Happy to hear mom and dad regale the day’s events while dear baby Carter was sure to contribute his fair share of screeches and babbles.

I missed that.

I know they say babies change everything. And around here, I suppose it’s true. But I don’t think it’s such a bad thing. Sure, I used to do my best thinking in complete silence that no longer exists in my world. And that’s okay. I’ve learned to love the chaos that surrounds me on a daily basis. I’ve learned to thrive on it. Because all the life and the living of it makes me feel more alive.