Don't Change the Colour of Your Hair

The greatest loves of my life, it seems, have always been the mildest, and sometimes the silliest. I love the rustling of changing, dying autumn leaves at night and the way the fog sweeps in over the harbour. I love the feel of cold hardwood floors in an old Victorian in the winter and I love watching the city lights from Fort Howe in September. I love the feel of a new black gel-pen the first time it hits a crisp sheet of paper, the way it glides and paints your thoughts across the page… the last few paragraphs of a really good book, the smell of candles just blown out, my grandparents’ babbling brook, long drives at night… All these things produce some sort of small happiness which, over time, add up to something substantial. To counter the mindset of “bigger and better,” we often hear that happiness lies in the small things, and to some extent, most of us concur. Yes, it’s most likely a truth, but is often dismissed as being a quaint “feel-good” saying meant to content and inspire a counting of one’s small blessings.

But perhaps happiness does not so much rest in the actual “small things” as it does the realization of them, the appreciation of them. The more time I have to think, the more I have come to appreciate that which I have the privilege of being able to think about. I think of my family, of my grandparents and sisters, aunts and uncles, mother (sometimes), and the love they have inspired in me. I reflect on the love and support between my closest friends and understand the role they have played in bringing me to the place where I am now. I sit in silent admiration for professors and mentors, past and present, and come to terms with the debt I owe them… the many people I have observed over the years, without their knowledge, and the things I have learned, the inner dialogues they have sparked. Slowly, I’ve come to see that even the people I spar with have given me a certain strength, and certainly patience, which one can never have too much of. Through long meditation, I’ve managed to come to the tip of the proverbial iceberg of understanding the world around me and the people that coinhabit it…and it’s like turning on a light in what was previously a large black room.

I know it’s always been my nature to revert to trite phrases about the human condition, but I believe wholeheartedly that we encounter and receive exactly what we are able to handle, no more and no less. And while I can honestly say that in the past I’ve been given a bit more to chew on than my respective peers, I’m still working on bettering my understanding of the little things…and the more I understand, the brighter the room gets.

Sometimes the greatest happiness can also be the quietest.