I Live For Little Moments Like That

Everyone knows Thanksgiving is a perfect time to slow down and take stock of your life. I've been doing that a lot lately, for the past month or so. And it's funny how often I've appreciating the little moments of joy that come along, even more often than I did when I was on the road.

I think it happened like this: When I was on the road, I definitely stopped to smell the roses, sometimes even literally, but my mind was very preoccupied with getting to the next state, the next vista. I was in survival mode, and a lot of my time was spent wondering where I would sleep, making sure I had enough money, enough gas, enough food, that I didn't stink. It was honestly the most wonderful time of my life, but I still had to remind myself to be thankful at times.

But when I moved to Ohio, all of that changed. I was stationary for the first time in months, thanks to a brand new family who opened their doors and their hearts. I met and made some lasting friendships in record time, and it made me savor each tiny second of joy. Especially when I realized that it wouldn't last.

Ohio proved itself not to be the land of opportunity I'd expected within the first three weeks. The next two weeks, knowing I would be leaving soon, I spent enveloped in every last bit of Ohio I could drink in. I spent as much time as humanly possible with friends, with Earl, with Chris. I didn't write, I didn't brood, I didn't plan for the future much. I just tried to live in that moment, with people I wouldn't see for awhile, while I had the chance.

Now that I'm home, with family and a fabulous new group of friends, and a wonderful new man, I'm doing the same. And it's so deliciously bizarre how once you start honestly enjoying each tiny moment as it happens, how many more you notice.

My brother just joined the Marines. My level of Big Sister Protectiveness is at an all-time high. I know there's a possibility I could lose him, either physically or mentally. Aside from death, he could come back a hardened, stoic box of a person, so different from the goofball I live with now. So when he acts silly, I take the image and the laughter and file it away for a time when I may not have it at my fingertips. Last night he came storming into my room wearing a cowboy hat and starting doing The Running Man while singing The Village People. And I know when he gets on that bus for boot camp, that's what I'm going to be seeing on the empty ride back home.

I have a new friend who is quickly becoming a true friend. Jim, my boyfriend's best friend, is a sweet, kind person and I love spending time with him. The other day, he bought my boyfriend (Greg) and I both toothbrushes to keep at his house. That's a moment that will stay with me, and I'll pull it out and cuddle it when I'm back out on the road, in the desert in the dark.

I spent Thanksgiving in New York City, with my best friend from college and some other don't-have-anywhere-to-go's. My turkey came out perfect, but what was really perfect was after dinner, when five people who barely knew each other went around the coffee table and said what they were thankful for, and first on the list for each was the company. I thought my face would break from smiling.

I have a friend named Drew. We used to date, and when we broke up it was a bit ugly. But we've finally come to the point where we put it behind us and are even better friends for it. Today he heard about my checking account woes (identity theft....sigh) and picked me up for lunch. In the car was an envelope with cash in it. You would not believe how much. I cried for what wonderful friends I have.

My boyfriend is a whole other magnificent enigma in himself. Each day I spend with him makes me realize how karma works, and I must have done something really, really good to deserve him. Greg is fabulous. He washes my car, he fills my tank, he tucks me at night. He hugs my mom and washes my dog. Last night he wrapped his arms around me and whispered, "I want to be with you always." He has one fear - the road, revisited by me. But given the little moments we share every day, he shouldn't worry. Home for me is where he is, and the road always leads back home.

And if you read this, I want you to experiment: One day out of the week, take the time to notice and remember each small thing that happens that you like. And see if it doesn't just become a habit, and if each day after, you notice even more. Then tell me how it worked.