Last night I saw Hamlet performed live. It was brilliant (for the most part). One of the members of my small group played Hamlet. My team leader from work was the stage manager. I got all dressed up and went out on the town. I met new people.
And it hit me, as it always does in a moment of true happiness, that it’s the little things that make life wonderful. The small moments of joy, like hugs from someone you barely know (but seriously, I want to be his best friend he’s so cool). It’s the moment when everyone is waiting for you to come out of the theater because they want to make sure you get home okay. It’s when you are running for the metro with new friends and you can’t keep up, so one of them puts his hand on your back and propels you forward so you can keep the pace. It’s laughing so hard, you can barely breathe. It’s the moment you realize, you’ve already missed your train, so what’s the point and, as they continue to speed walk, they hale a taxi for you so you can get home and wait till your inside it and on your way before disappearing around the corner. It’s the wistful, bittersweet thought that these moments will never happen again.
It’s when you come home and order pizza at midnight with your best friend. It’s staying up until three reading The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society for the HHB. It’s deciding that you have things to share with the world and taking a moment to record those things. It’s writing a book. It’s writing three books. It’s November in all it’s glory. It’s Anne of Green Gables and Youtube web series. It’s clean laundry. It’s an ayi, who cleans twice a week. It’s phone calls home and voice texts to sisters. It’s homesickness, and imagining your reunion in nine months. It’s the view from your balcony every day. It’s eating a jelly donut and the moment when all the jelly squirts out because you weren’t careful. It’s the fruit man across the street who waves at you every day. It’s the security guards who say “Hello!” to you because you always say “Ni hao!” to them.
It’s the moment when you meet a fellow writer across the waves of the internet and talk to them about the differences between Chinese and American writing. It’s proclaiming that you’re single and you like it. It’s talking about God and the way He moves in this world. It’s the white cat who looks just like Amelie who hisses at you every time you leave the apartment complex. It’s finding a group of people who won’t judge. It’s realizing you made a mistake and repenting. It’s knowing that soon this will all be a memory, but you’ll only remember the good, because why remember the lonely moments when there are so many that are full of life and love?
It’s the little things and the big things. It’s appreciating every step of your life so that you never look back and realize you missed it.