The Little Things

One cold night, you’re all alone in your room, taking a break from all the stress the world placed on you. You can’t help but notice the slight pitter-patter of rain in your window as you cuddle snugly in bed.

You somehow manage to frown, thinking that time is progressive. At times you want to stop the clock—or at least slow it down a bit—you can’t, unless you want it to ruthlessly leave you behind. Life moves too fast.

You remember your childhood. You realize that life won’t be as easy as it was when you were 5, or 7, or 10. You wish you to be young again—that getting a lollipop would mean the world to you; that hugging your teddy bear as you sleep instantly safeguards you from nightmares.

All of a sudden, it comes to a halt, and after 2 milliseconds or so, heavy rain comes crashing down.

Then it hits you. You’ll never be young again. The reason why you couldn’t go back is that you’re meant to move forward. Each passing day is a step closer to your destination, and every step comes with a huge set of challenges.

The rain decides to stop. A rainbow emerges on the horizon, and you suddenly feel lighter.

You realize that life wouldn’t be the same if you were always a kid, if you always had the world to yourself, if you hadn’t moved on. You’re a big girl now, and you can handle anything you tell yourself you can handle. It’s amazing how small things could make you understand the big pictures.

After all, you could still cuddle up in bed with your teddy bear; you could still enjoy the majestic presence of the rainbow in your room.

Little things we shouldn’t forget

Here’s a friendly reminder from my daily planner:

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While looking my planner for this month of February to recall those past goings-on I had for this ‘love’ month seems that routine stick to my system! Ughhh >.< I hate it and that was how this 28days month passes by. It was stuck on the marker for February and I couldn’t resist taking a picture of it to remind me because it stood out to me in so many ways.

I don’t find it too difficult to laugh in general, but there’s something to be said about sincere and unrestrained laughter. I think that there’s a certain freedom and relief that comes from it. It doesn’t cure everything, contrary to the old adage, but it certainly makes a lot of things better.

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I consider myself to be mostly happy with the daily struggle and tussle with life and know that working really hard for something is dreadful at the time, but incredibly satisfying at the end. I know that the more I struggle and the more I fight for something, then it’s so appreciated at the end. I strive to be happy but I don’t go looking for it and although, it makes me sound rather grim, I really appreciate the challenges of daily life. Of course, it’s all relative. I sometimes think that happiness can be overrated and people start worrying/asking if they are happy or not. I quote in one article I have read, words are, “if you are well, have friends, do something meaningful, then why would you not considered yourself happy?”

Laughing out loud can be too easy, in fact, if your personality is inclined to it. But there are instances that depreciate experience, and we have to do our best to avoid those hollow and contrived laughs. This is not to say there’s no place for hilarity in the small or the trivial. Nor that laughter must have some greater meaning to be convincing. Laughter is best when natural, spontaneous and genuine, without baggage or agenda.

I’m content in the knowledge, that in my struggle, that I’m doing the right thing. I’m content in knowing that the moments of happiness come and go, sometimes like a visitor that can’t stay long and like a dear friend, we miss it when it’s gone.

Just…laugh. LAUGH OUT LOUD.