Living in the Ordinary
by Erin Luginbuhl, M.A.
I’m behind the times. Hashtags aren’t a natural part of my vocabulary and I don’t typically peruse “trending topics” in my social media newsfeed, yet recently I stumbled upon a mother’s heartfelt letter as I clicked my way through a shared article on Facebook.
Written almost seven months ago, Renee Robinson’s “A Letter to My Sons (the real reason I say no to electronics)” explores being present in relationship, something many struggle with in this age of busyness and electronic stimulation. More often than not, the events of every day get glossed over; yet, this idea of being present in them is not simply a trending topic.
Playwright Thorton Wilder captured such an idea in his work Our Town, written in the 1930s. Touching on relationships and everyday life, the most notable lesson is displayed in the play’s final scenes. After realizing she has the power to relive any day she desires, the deceased Emily Webb chooses to go back to her 12th birthday. Before making this decision, her deceased mother-in-law exhorts her to choose any day, as it will be special enough. Grieved by what she sees in her return, Emily asks the stage manager, “Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it?—every, every minute?” to which he responds, “saints and poets, maybe”.
Within Our Town, characters realize what was missed in the face of loss, and often it is only from this vantage point we find our perspective disrupted enough to enact change. Author, speaker and researcher Brene Brown highlights a similar point in her work The Gifts of Imperfection, writing, “I think I learned the most about the value of ordinary from interviewing men and women who have experienced tremendous loss such as the loss of a child, violence, genocide, and trauma. The memories that they held most sacred were the ordinary, everyday moments. It was clear that their most precious memories forged from a collection of ordinary moments, and their hope for others is that they would stop long enough to be grateful for those moments and the joy they bring.”
And so, throughout the year iCalendar reminders, Facebook feeds or memories tell us to stop and remember certain people, places, or events in our past—all of which is good and right. Yet, we have the opportunity to gather stories every day in our daily lives. Little fragments of what seem to be merely mundane activities pieced together create a glorious story to be remembered and treasured.
Several years ago, I returned to the U.S. after spending time in China. While attending a seminar geared to help individuals leave well, the speaker challenged how I’d been living life. Too often I said no to casual get togethers because stacks of papers waited to be graded and lessons needed to be planned. Even in the midst of being with people, to-do lists ran like a news ticker through my mind, causing me to miss relationships in front of my very eyes.
At the time, my counselor said, “We make time for the things that are important to us” and my conditioned internal response was “in theory”. Obligations and responsibilities loomed large on my internal radar and crowded out these ordinary moments to rest in the comfort and companionship of my community of friends. How often I was physically present, yet mentally and emotionally elsewhere.
In Ruthless Trust, Brennan Manning writes, “it is through immersion in the ordinary—the apparently empty, trivial, and meaningless experiences of a routine day—that life/Life is encountered and lived. Real living is not about words, concepts, and abstractions but about experience of who or what is immediately before us.”
How do you embrace these moments of the ordinary? Perhaps that’s a hashtag to create.
