Little Things

I am captivated, encapsulated, infactuated by the little things. The saddest things is that for the longest time, I never thought they were enough.

Under the dappled sunshine of an afternoon spent by a mandering stream dotted with ducks, cranes and water fowl, I felt the quite joy of being alive. As I watched a wood duck dive into the water with his little bum acting as a buoy each time his head was submerged, I thought I could watch this for hours. I could watch him, I could watch the crane stalk the muddy banks, I could give love and conversation to an old lady that seemed like she hadn't actually been heard in years. I could do all of this and be satisfied.

In those quite moments, special and solitary, where I engage with the world around me, I get the meaning of life. It's not money, though a little more would make my life easier. It's not personal recognition or achievement; its not your car, your watch, your status, your partner's statuts. It is not any of the things that we bend over backwards and break our necks trying to achieve. It is the little things- like ducks' bums.

You see, I have, like many of my human counterparts, being mentally fogged with the preoccupation of comfort. Consumerist desire to attain more, to do less and in turn disconnect from everyone else except for the materialist avatar I leave in my stead; The avatar I work to feed, cloth, program to dance to make the other avatars clap. All the while missing the little things. The things that lets us connect with another human being, the brief moments were souls interwine and say "hey, you know me"

As I walked home from the stream, I though about these little things and my legacy as a human being. I have such grandiose ambitions, empires built on the backs of other people, towers built of money and ruthless ambition so that I can be financially prosperious and THEN be able to help the people I love. Maybe, just maybe when I look down from the wavering heights of my achievements, I will feel validated; satisfied; worthy of the skin I possess?

On this walk, I looked at the two toned wattle blossoms, and saw their beauty even if their decay and thought "I want to be remembered for the little things". The girl that saw beauty in everything. The girl that smiled at everyone she passes, giving a little of her love to any that are willing to receive it. The girl that said she will be there, and without doubt, always was. The girl that held you, loved you and heard you and asked for nothing in return. The girl that relished the little things and the opportunity to be alive.

I know I will achieve a world of things that will make the materially minded envious. I will scale the professional ladder with an ease and flair that will bring both admiration and resentment. But these are not the things that I want to be remembered by. I want to seen for the beauty of my heart, not of my face. I want to be admired for giving my last dollar to someone who needed it more than making my first million. I want more than what I have ever wanted before, yet it is less than what I have set out of achieve.


All I want is to be remembered as the girl that loved