Flecks of Gold

A commonly-held belief is that for a moment in our lives to be meaningful, it needs to be big! While this is certainly true sometimes, like cataracts this belief distorts our vision. And in this myopic malaise we miss many beautiful, important moments.

Collecting Flecks of Gold

There’s a story of a young person who sold all they owned and moved to California in hopes of making a fortune prospecting gold. Over time, they became increasingly frustrated because they weren’t finding big nuggets of gold. One day, during an outburst of anger, an older prospector suggested the young person focus on the small flecks seen in the sand.

The young person retorted that they didn’t want worthless flecks, they were looking for nuggets like the older person had in her bag. The older lady opened her bag and shower, to the astonishment of the young person, that her bag was filled with small flecks of gold. She said “the patient accumulation of these small flecks has brought me great wealth.”

Just as the old prospector gained great wealth through her patient, monotonous work, the ordinary moments in our lives can accumulate into great things.

Metamorphosis in a Moment

Another way to view small moments is through Robert Rauschenberg’s White Painting, which I also discuss here. If we were to paint a line on a canvas for each day of our lives, a single day would be nearly invisible. Yet like this painting, the choices we make in a single day, or a single moment, can mark a stark divide in our lives - for better or worse.

For example, having a child creates an entirely, wonderful (and hard! but overall great) new chapter in our lives. While we - like the canvas - are the same person the day before and after our child’s birth, our lives are now divided into two phases. And our lives will never be the same again - in much more wonderful ways.

Conversely, and while people rarely undergo drastic changes in their beliefs in a day, a decision to start watching creators “just asking questions” on YouTube can mark the beginning of a downward spiral into hatred. In retrospect, that moment can mark differences in a person’s life.

The Flip Side of the Coin

The belief that only big moments are meaningful is also accompanied by a belief that only big people are meaningful. Think of the terms “great people”, “the lone genius”, “leaving a legacy”, etc. This is often expressed, at least in the US, as a belief that you are worthwhile if you have wealth.

And like a single coin that has two sides, this axiom comes with has a parallel doctrine - that poverty means you’re meaningless. That if you haven’t “accomplished” “something,” you’re worthless. For example, it’s often held that someone “flipping burgers” deserves to be impoverished because they’re working a “low-skill” job. We also see it in phrases like “even the janitor…”

This doctrine is a pernicious, harmful lie. The truth is that every person is important because they exist. And this is one of the truths we see increasingly attacked.

To get around this simple yet profound truth, many have and today preach that there are only two types of people in the world: Those who are children of God and those who are not (you can adapt this to whatever your religious/philosophical beliefs are). It’s rarely taught as frankly as this, but we see this dehumanization of people frequently. Any vulnerable group is targeted, both by individuals and by society at large, but some of the most common people we see dehumanized are those who are trans, women, BIPOC, prisoners, homeless, and children.

Given all this, it’s vital that we view people as people. And where we don’t fully (because we’re all imperfect, especially being born into societies with so many pernicious lies taught as truth), we can work on changing our actions and our hearts.

And one way we can work on this is by valuing and finding happiness in the ordinary.

Joy in the Ordinary

To me, the understanding of how important individual moments can be has helped me be more intentional. Now, it is easy to start berating ourselves for not living in the moment enough. So this isn’t saying that every single moment needs to be examined or deeply appreciated - such a course of action is unhealthy. But what I do think is important is to find the important in the ordinary.

One thing that helps ground me are leaves. Leaves are incredibly common, but they bring me a lot of joy. When you look at them, you see the leave’s veins and structures that bring it life. When you touch it, it can be smooth or rough. And if you smell it, it can have a fresh, beautiful smell.

Another, and for me far more important, moment is when my kids talk to me or show me their drawings. I love hearing about their lives, and seeing the things they’ve created.

These small moments bring me so much happiness, and each is a treasure to me.