The last two days the mundane seemed quite illusive. I didn’t go for my morning run, didn’t drive my daughter to school, and did very little writing. The routine was completely interrupted by colds. My daughter laid on the couch, with a high fever, headache, and sniffles. The usual conversation, running around, were brought to a abrupt stop. While she laid down, I did too. I was overcome by congestion, cough and a fever too. We both slept most of the day Monday, only taking breaks to eat some soup, go to the restroom, and take some medicine. There was an exhaustion that I couldn’t seem to shake and it made me sad that my daughter felt the same way.

Just twelve hours ago, we were both engaged in our normal day to day activties. Activities that, at least, I take for granted. Without thinking about it, I brushed my teeth, went on my morning run and chaperoned my daughter to a community Easter Egg hunt. Everything was so easy. I also recall vacuuming our living room, making my daughter’s lunch for school the next day, and writing out my to-do list for the week. It was all done without effort, and without much thinking. I remember my daughter asking me a million questions, humming around the room. The idea of sitting down and being quiet is something that is too troubling for her. She always moves, with an energy and a sense of vibrancy. I don’t always understand it, but admire this part of her personality because it is so raw and genuine.

I looked over at her on Monday afternoon. We were both running fevers and she whispered to me, “I feel sick Momma.” The only thing I could repeat back was, “I know. I feel the same way.” I wasn’t in any capacity to try and comfort her, except for patting her on her legs and making certain she drank fluids every few hours. I wished that she wasn’t laying on the couch, spiritless, without any color to her face. I wished we were both engaging in our normal activities, eating breakfast, driving to school, just walking around immersing ourselves in and around the mundane.

As a society, we place to much emphasis on escpaping the boredom of everyday life. After these last few days, the boredom seems so attractive to me. Waiting in the car pool lane at my daughter’s school, going grocery shopping, and washing dishes interests me in a way I can’t explain. It’s here, I believe, that beauty lives, the ability to participate in life, despite how pedantic the task may appear. Because cherishing the mundane is certainly a privilege. But we miss the beauty of the everyday, unless involuntarily, we are reminded again.

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Do you cherish the mundane? How so? Is there extra emphasis on the word excitement in your household? Do you take the mundane for granted? 

Image by |Chris|

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