I'm feeling all giddy up in here today! I'm grateful. Filled to the brim with love. I've become a great fan of what I use to refer to as "boring" or "commonplace" ordinary days. My, seemingly, uneventful routine was a collection of the daily stuff I could expect to happen. . . . ho hum, y a w n. Nothing to send chills up my spine . . . like jumping out of an airplane (like I'd ever do that!). I've spent much time in my life "hurrying up" my days. Dashing through ordinary time longing for the days set aside for feasts and festivals. Bring on the extraordinary!! Ohhhhh, when is Christmas going to get here? How many days until my birthday? New Year's Eve? And how many times have I heard myself say "I just can't wait for that Thanksgiving Day dinner!" . . . many, many times. There is a long list.


As kids, anticipating special days was our life. Waiting for spring, summer and winter breaks from school. We knew there was whole day devoted to opening gifts coming around the corner. Just before gift day there is dress-up candy day!! Then there are bunnies and eggs. As exciting as those days are (and they are) they make up maybe a week of our 365 days we get each year. Our childlike wishing for another day to come quickly was so steeped into our little minds most of us carried it into adulthood. It changes to some degree but our every day is veiled with the enthusiastic anticipation of exciting times to come. We end up thinking everything in between merrymaking and celebrations are something to get through. Getting through becomes a habit. Just get through this week . . . vacation is on the calendar.


When I look at babies and toddlers I see joy and wonderment in their eyes (unless, of course, they are hungry, tired or in pain . . . just like us). Their precious lives filled with one adventure after another . . . every day. Laughing, eating, learning, pooping, reaching, drooling, etc. there is no tomorrow; only today. Silly sounds out of an adult can keep a baby laughing without end. The family pet brings hours of fascination. Turning on a lamp is nothing short of magic. The airplanes and fire trucks completely bewitching. Adults forget the miracle of every day life itself - at least this adult did. After all, there mouths to feed, mortgages to pay . . . endless responsibilities! Who can find joy in that every day? (I've been told it's silliness seeking joy daily . . . okay . . . then I am one silly lady!)

Soon after reading the stats on survival of advanced stage ovarian cancer I started to notice my blah-zey attitude toward my ordinary days (I can't find the little thingy that would go over the "e" in blase to make it blah-zey so I'm going with phonetics). I was literally wishing my life away! I heard myself say things like "I wish it were Friday" as if life on Tuesday or Wednesday just wasn't worth living. Uh, curious. I decided I did not want to throw away my today while yearning for a tomorrow that may never come. I decided I wanted to bring that same seducing anticipation to every day not just "holidays". I wanted to change the way I was thinking about my every day living and what it meant to me.


Today I see the vigor in the ordinary, the every day of it all. I relish it. I am comforted by the chirping of the same birds who reside with us around our home. There is contentment when I hear the same dogs barking . . . yep . . . even if it's that scratchy little one who yip, yip, yips the neighborhood awake at 3:00 in the morning. And let me not forget to mention Henry, the rooster, who lives next door and loves to remind of us of that, daily, at all hours.


What I once dismissed, threw in the pile of mundane, has become my greatest source of delight. Moments like coming home, from where ever, finding my husband doing every day chores on our land to keep it beautified . . . watering, digging, pruning, and clipping filling up waste can after waste can. Every ordinary day. And when our mail carrier, Doris, pops in the office with her broad smile, filled with braces, heralding a cheerful, "Good morning Mary Ellen, how are you?" Every ordinary day. I even take delight in our resident crapehanger (whom I refer to as Mr. Happy) with his sloped shoulders, sauntering into that same office grunting his acknowledgement of others . . . because I'm convinced, on an ordinary day, I will get him to smile. I scamper into our local espresso lounge knowing the adorable barristas have already constructed my drink. Every ordinary day. I could write forever about the miracles I cling to in ordinary time . . . it has become a much longer list than the one I created waiting for the "special" days.


Let me clarify . . . I still enjoy (very much), and am excited for, the special event portions of life. The hustle and bustle of preparations and soon-to-be gatherings are fabulous. Why yes, I do feel tingly all over looking forward to our dear friends (who are snowbirds) coming back to our neck of the woods for a bit, you bet I do. I also celebrate "eves" . . . birthday eve, Christmas eve, world series eve, (I actually create "eves" so I can celebrate them but I'm a little cray cray that way). Here's the difference . . . I no longer allow the designated days to overturn my extraordinary ordinary days. I do all I can to be present today availing myself to the beauty of the every days; that brings me unbelievable joy and an enormous sense of gratitude. How bad can that be? The fact that I woke up this morning is nothing short of a miracle. Is that not jubilant? Why not celebrate my perfectly, miraculous every days? I've said it before and I'll say it again . . . I may not be happy all day every day . . . but I am happy every day. It's a choice.


Truth is, every day, I think of the blessings of ordinary times. I am wrapped in a warm blanket of the love and laughter that fills my home and my life. Every delicious, ordinary day I laze in that laughter knowing I am loved . . . sends chills up my spine.


(**Disclosure** I'm still working on finding the joy of doing laundry and washing dishes . . . but I'm getting there!)