SUNDAY SEEDS OF THOUGHT: Nothing Extraordinary Happened Today

Dr. Carmela Maxell: Welcome back to another episode of Rooted in Rising with Dr. Carmela Maxwell. Let me start off by saying this. Nothing extraordinary happened today. Nobody handed me an award. I didn't reach some enormous milestone. There was no life-changing phone call, no dramatic revelation, no moment where the universe opened up and announced that everything was about to change. I cut some lavender for my front yard. That's it. And somehow it was enough. Welcome back to Sunday Seeds of Thought, a quieter space from Rooted in Rising, where we take a few minutes to plant something worth carrying with us into the week ahead. And today I want to talk about ordinary life. Because I think some of us have forgotten how to live one. Today I went outside and noticed the lavender growing in my front yard. When I say growing, I mean growing. It's become this huge lavender bush that I've walked past countless times. I've seen it when I'm leaving. I've seen it when I'm coming home. I've probably walked right past it while thinking about work, deadlines, emails, things I need to write. Things I need to record, places I need to be, the next thing. Always the next thing. But today we stopped. We grabbed some scissors. We started cutting little pieces of lavender. There was a bee buzzing around, clearly irritated that we'd shown up to her place of employment without an appointment. And for a few minutes that was all there was purple flowers, my daughter's tiny hands, a bee. A pair of scissors, the smell of lavender. Later I put some in a vase. And nothing extraordinary happened. But I caught myself thinking about how beautiful the whole thing was. And then I thought, how many moments like this have I missed because I was waiting for something bigger to happen? We are taught to celebrate milestones. Graduations, promotions, weddings, birthdays, new jobs, new houses, big announcements, book launches, numbers going up, goals being reached. And there's nothing wrong with celebrating those things. We should. But here's the problem. Those moments make up such a tiny percentage of our lives. Most of life happens in between them. Most of life is Tuesday afternoon. Most of life is washing dishes. Driving home. Looking for something you swear you just had in your hand. Feeding the cat standing outside for five minutes laughing at something stupid. Hearing somebody you love moving around in the other room. Most of life doesn't announce itself. It doesn't say, pay attention. You're going to miss this someday. It just happens quietly. And then it becomes yesterday. I think we're especially vulnerable to missing ordinary life now because we're constantly being shown everybody else's extraordinary moments. Open your phone and somebody got engaged. Somebody bought a house. Somebody's business took off. Somebody went on vacation. Somebody lost 50 pounds. Somebody got promoted. Somebody sold out an event. Somebody's kid won something. Somebody achieved the thing you're still working toward. And without realizing it, you can begin looking at your own perfectly good Wednesday and thinking, is this it? Nothing happened today. I didn't accomplish enough today. I'm behind. Everybody else is moving and I'm standing still. But you're comparing the middle of your ordinary day to someone else's highlighted moment. And those aren't the same thing. Because five minutes after they took that beautiful picture, they probably had laundry to do. We all return to ordinary life eventually. And maybe the goal shouldn't be escaping ordinary life. Maybe the goal is building an ordinary life that we actually want to return to. There's another part of this that I think we don't talk about enough. Sometimes we're not just chasing accomplishments. We're waiting. Waiting until we have more money. Waiting until we lose the weight. Waiting until work settles down. Waiting until the kids get older. Waiting until the relationship happens. Waiting until the relationship gets better. Waiting until we're less tired. until we're less anxious, until life becomes easier. And then we'll enjoy it. Then we'll travel. Then we'll take pictures. Then we'll wear the outfit. Then we'll invite people over. Then we'll start the thing. Then we'll sit outside. Then we'll breathe. Then we'll live. But life has this terrible habit of continuing while we're waiting for it to begin. And I don't want to wake up one day and realize I spent years standing in the waiting room of my own life. So here's your Sunday seed. Sometime this week, I want you to notice something completely insignificant. Not something impressive. Not something you can turn into a goal. Not something productive. Something small. Maybe it's the way your coffee smells in the morning. Maybe your dog falls asleep beside you. Maybe your kid tells you a story that takes approximately 14 years to reach the point. Maybe sunlight hits your kitchen table a certain way. Maybe you hear your favorite song while you're driving. Maybe something is blooming outside your front door. And for just a moment, don't rush through it. Don't ask what comes next. Don't ask whether you deserve to be resting. Don't think about the email waiting for you. Don't turn it into another task. Just notice it. You don't even have to photograph it. And yes. I recognize the irony because I absolutely photograph the lavender. But you know what I mean. Let something exist without demanding that it is anything more than what it is. Because one day, some of the ordinary things surrounding you right now will be the things you would give anything to experience again. A voice from another room. particular house, a morning routine, a pet curled up somewhere inconvenient. Little shoes by the door someone's laugh a drive you used to complain about a flower growing inside. We rarely know we're living in a memory while we're making it. That's the strange thing about time. The moments that eventually become precious don't always feel precious while they're happening. Sometimes they just feel like Sunday. So no. Nothing extraordinary happened today. I cut some lavender. There was a bee. There was laughter. There were flowers sitting by the window afterward, and life kept moving. Maybe that was enough. Maybe an ordinary day doesn't need to justify its existence by becoming extraordinary. Maybe you don't either. Maybe there are days when simply being here, noticing, loving, laughing, resting, breathing is enough. So as you move into this next week, don't only look for the big moments, look for the quiet ones. They are much easier to miss. And there are so many more of them. Thank you for spending these few minutes with me on Sunday Seeds of Thought. If something here made you think of someone, share this episode with them. Follow Rooted in Rising with Dr. Carmela Maxwell wherever you're listening, and join me Tuesday for a new full episode. Until then, pay attention to what's blooming right outside your door. And remember, stay rooted in who you are. and keep rising into who you're becoming. Take care.