A life less ordinary...lived in the everyday

The sign reads “Everyday is a Gift.”  There it is, hanging on a wall; it must be true.

At first, I’ll admit to bristling a bit:  it should be “Every Day is a Gift.” Two words, the adjective every modifying the noun day. . .as in each day is a present, a gift we’re given just in waking each morning.

Or so I thought.

The thing about prickly things, the stuff that makes us bristle and sputter, is that we are usually going to get some sort of life lesson out of the deal if we settle down and ponder.

The sign is right.

When my son was about three, he thought an ice cube in his cup of water or juice was a treat! (We saved a lot of money in those early years.) Often, life’s little joys of everyday become complicated or negated by some sophisticated notion: if it’s simple, it can’t be special.

Everyday, in its noun form, is perhaps the best gift of all. Implied is the each-and-every of our days accompanied by all we experience within those twenty-four hours—aside from, and in addition to, the special and extraordinary. Let’s face it:  we do have powerful, wonderful blasts of life from time to time—but mostly, most of us probably find the remainder looking fairly similar from day to day, year to year. When we may be tempted to be somewhat dismissive, defensive, or even apologetic regarding our everyday, the sign reminds us of the treasure to be found within those nondescript, seemingly mundane chapters of our days.

What gifts of the everyday will we unwrap today?