Savoring the Small Stuff

I wrote this article last week, and it took me a while of contemplating whether I should publish it or not. I guess a part of me feels a bit “too” positive, if there’s such a thing, but I thought I’d take the chance anyway even if it’s not my best article. Would appreciate positive or constructive feedback.

I just went on a 5 minute walk, and I never thought it would be that pleasurable. I wasn’t walking to burn fat, I wasn’t walking because I was bored, I wasn’t looking for something, or anything. I was mainly walking because I had been sitting for too long, and my body was starting to ache. My day at work has been productive, and it’s a chilled one. I’ve been focusing on enjoying the tasks I used to feel apprehensive about, and I just decided that I will experience them with life. I was walking because 10 years from now, I don’t want to have health issues arising because I sit for too long, I don’t want to feel like I’m stuck in a white box all day long. I wanted to somehow get out of the system.

This walk has been inspiring though, because when I savored the small stuff, I’ve discovered that the tiny street I once viewed as poor, old, and value-less surprisingly is special after all. The street is narrow and short, there isn’t much scenery, there are just a bunch of grey buildings, no effort put in their design, but they do what they’re designed to do. I came across some lovely wood work though when, instead of driving by the buildings unconsciously, I walked slowly and looked at the cramped up garages. Each building had a different door on display. Shamefully, most of the old trees are harshly cut, they are leafless. But in spite of the fact that they’re the farthest from green, these trees are so old, their stems so sturdy and thick, and their branches and limbs intricately hugging one another exquisitely. It’s something you might see everyday, but you don’t notice or appreciate. I’ve discovered that the embassy of Cuba is on the corner of the street, I had never seen it before. I loved the fact that there was minimal security, it felt safer. There was just one security guard taking a smoke across the street. Instead of an uptight, formal vibe, he gave a casual one. I also stumbled upon a retirement home called Beit Al Habayeb, (Home of the Loved Ones), and I could have sworn I saw the 40’s in there. The residents were spending some time outdoors since the weather isn’t too cold today, and the sun is shining. It seemed like an old fashioned tea party as they settled on the worn out wooden chairs. You could see they’ve given up on life, yet not in a bad way. They were still alive, but they’ve gotten over the fear of death which a lot of us possess, and that makes life better, I think.

Despite the many existing “newer” road and building signs, authentic calligraphy was chiseled in other metal signs. They were rusty and genuine, overpowering the bogus blue ones. I wish there were more of them around.

Life is all about savoring the small stuff. Instead of rushing through it, we should take it one step at a time. We often look back and feel like a part of it has passed us by, and that’s mainly because we forgot that we could turn even the simplest things into something that is better than neutral. My walk is just a metaphor, and maybe mostly developed in my imagination, because I had decided to see those things around me in that way. We take our senses for granted, and we forget about gratitude. Our lives are precious, and the things existing around us aren’t just there to exist, they’re there for a reason, if only we’d see it.


2 thoughts on “Savoring the Small Stuff

  1. jeanpierreboijmans says:

    The Monk Who Sold His Ferarri – Robin Sharma. Laila get it!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: