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On a Saturday morning drive, the chorus from Rihanna’s song hummed in the background with these lyrics:  “We all want the same thing, Everybody wants something, Gotta want something, Yeah, yeah we all want love.” I adore the beat of this song and the lyrics resonate with me, describing the universal in a way that I firmly relate.

As the day unfolded, I took a picture at my daughter’s tennis tournament. Her stance, the legs bent at the knees, the crook of her racket in midswing pushed me to think about the ordinariness of this moment and how much gratitude I felt for it. That morning we made oatmeal for breakfast with my daughter asking for an extra heap of brown sugar and strawberries to top off her breakfast sundae, as she calls it. While she ate, I unloaded the dishwasher, washed a few pots and changed into my exercise attire. While she practiced with her father, I headed to the gym to catch a quick workout before her tennis tournament. On the drive home, I thought about how the curve of my day is so dedicated to my routine and how much I enjoy the freedom within it. Are these strokes of a contented life? It is a new feeling for me, this ease, since the crux of my days in the past centered on restlessness and a quiet anxiety. I am not certain what to make of it, but perhaps it’s not only accepting everyday life, but also embracing it. 

While we sat in our chairs, watching our daughter moving back and forth on the court, volleying, using her strength to sneak in a backhand, edging toward the base line as she served, there wasn’t any other place or person occupying my attention. I paused while feeling the grass underneath my feet, the sun’s glory illuminating the blues and highlighting the silver on the fence as my husband and I conversed about our daughter’s grit and places where she needed to improve.

The weekend unraveled with much of the same. Grocery shopping, eating lunch at one of our favorite places in town and unwinding at home. During lunch, the three of us made jokes about something I said and I remember my head moving backwards in a laugh that emanated in a place so deep, it even surprised me. We ended the evening with my husband cooking dinner, while I worked on writing and my daughter finished homework. There wasn’t anything spectacular or special or extraordinary about any of the moments I experienced this past weekend. The ordinariness of this weekend probably mirrored many families across the country, but for me, every single moment, kept pushing on a common thread. The joy in sinking into a life that is all my own, without wanting another. This is how I view happiness.

As Sunday evening came to close, my husband and I spent it how we usually do – watching Downton Abbey and commenting on how much we adore certain characters. I am a fan of Maggie Smith, the Dowager Countess and her words usually resonate with me. Last night, she captured my weekend in four words, “I believe in love.”

Yes, I thought, isn’t that the glory of the everyday life.

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