I spend enormous amounts of time thinking. Worrying, analyzing, trying to determine all possible outcomes in all possible situations. I often get caught up in all these details, in all the things that could go wrong that I often don’t focus on or even notice the little things that go right.

We all do it. We get wrapped up in the big picture, making sure our kids have lunches packed for school and that their homework is finished. Completing the never-ending list of chores: laundry, dishes, meal planning and prep, vacuuming, cleaning, organizing, yard work, more laundry. In assuring that the pets are fed, that holiday presents are bought, that we keep in touch with family and friends and on and on and on… that we sometimes miss out on the little things.

Yesterday, as I stood in the driveway of my friend’s house after a particularly long and stressful day, I noticed the stars. You know, the same ones that are there every night. The same ones that most of the time I don’t notice or, if I do, I take for granted. For some reason though last night I noticed them. And they were beautiful. And in that moment I felt a sense of wonder. A sense of calm telling me to slow down and look around myself. Because there is beauty right in front of us. I pondered how many times lately I had missed other beautiful, wonderful, amazing things that were right there for me to enjoy.

Later that evening, on my drive home, I noticed movement on the side of the street. On any other day I may have not given it a second thought. A squirrel, a dog, something. But I didn’t turn away. Two deer, one full-grown and one much smaller, were about to cross the street. I slowed my speed and they crossed directly in front of my car. The larger one paused for a moment before scurrying off to the other side, the smaller one in tow. Just a moment. Just a moment that I could have very easily missed out on.

Today, throughout my travels, I noticed things that very likely may have previously been there. I saw how crisp and warmly colored the leaves on the trees were. Many branches already bare. I saw how the rain droplets fell on the grass, pooling together into bigger drops. Tiny purple and blue flowers I had written off as being already gone this far into autumn grew along the parking space my car occupied.

So many things. So many little things that go unnoticed daily. And yet they fill me with joy; with pleasure. The old saying “don’t sweat the small stuff and it’s all small stuff” feels true to me at this moment.