Waiting for the "Big Moment" Is Costing You Your Life
Hello Inspires, let’s be honest: how much of your life do you spend waiting?
Waiting for the weekend. Waiting for the vacation. Waiting for the promotion. Waiting for "real life" to finally begin.
We live in a culture obsessed with the extraordinary. We scroll through social media feeds filled with epic travel, grand romantic gestures, and career milestones. We start to believe that a meaningful life is made up of these big, shiny peaks, and that everything in between—the valleys, the plateaus, the long, flat stretches of Tuesday afternoon—is just filler.
But here’s the terrifying truth I had to confront: The filler is your life.
99% of our existence happens in the mundane. It happens while loading the dishwasher, stuck in traffic, or waiting for the coffee to brew. If we can only find joy and inspiration in the extraordinary 1%, we are doomed to be dissatisfied for the vast majority of our time on earth.
I used to be the queen of waiting. I treated my daily routine like an obstacle course I had to get through to get to the "good stuff." I rushed through my mornings, zoned out during my commute, and numbed out in the evenings. I was living, but I wasn't alive.
Then I stumbled upon a quote by author Annie Dillard that stopped me cold: "How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives."
It’s so simple, yet so devastating. If my days were gray, rushed, and empty, then my life would be too.
So, this Monday, let's flip the script. Instead of waiting for inspiration to strike from the outside, let’s learn how to excavate it from the inside out. Let’s learn the art of romanticizing our actual, messy, beautiful, ordinary lives.
Here are 7 actionable ways to find magic in the mundane, starting right now.
1. Practice the "Sonder" Shift on Your Commute
Commuting is usually the deadest part of our day. We are in a metal box, surrounded by other metal boxes, desperate to get from point A to point B. We see the people around us as obstacles—traffic, slow walkers, seat-hogs.
This week, try a psychological shift called "Sonder." It’s a word coined by John Koenig for The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, and it means: "The profound realization that everyone, including strangers passing in the street, has a life as complex as your own."
Look at the person in the car next to you. Really look at them. Realize that they have fears you’ll never know about. They have a favorite childhood memory that makes them smile. They have a heartbreak they are still healing from. They are the main character in an epic story that is just as vivid as yours.
When you practice sonder, the world suddenly feels less lonely and more interconnected. The traffic jam isn't just a nuisance; it's a shared human experience. You aren't stuck; you are surrounded by stories.
2. Turn a Chore into a Ritual
We all have chores we hate. For me, it’s folding laundry. It feels endless, pointless, and incredibly boring.
The difference between a chore and a ritual is intention and presence.
A chore is something you try to finish as quickly as possible so you can move on. A ritual is something you do with deliberate care, honoring the act itself.
Now, when I fold laundry, I don't watch Netflix. I put on my favorite calming playlist (some lo-fi beats or classical music). I light a candle that smells like clean cotton. I slow down. I feel the fabric of the clothes. I express silent gratitude that I have clothes to wear and a machine that washed them for me.
Suddenly, folding a shirt isn't just a task; it's an act of caring for myself and my family. It’s a quiet moment of domestic peace. Find one chore this week and upgrade it to a ritual.
3. Find Beauty in Decay (The Wabi-Sabi Lens)
Modern society is obsessed with the new, the shiny, and the perfect. But there is a profound kind of beauty in things that are old, worn, and imperfect.
This is the heart of the Japanese philosophy of Wabi-Sabi—finding beauty in the imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete.
Walking through my city, I used to only notice the new high-rises. Now, I find myself drawn to the old brick buildings. I love the way the paint is peeling to reveal layers of history beneath. I love the moss growing in the cracks of the sidewalk. I love the rust on an old iron fence.
Architectural photographer Christian Richter spent years photographing abandoned buildings across Europe. He said, "There is a certain spell created by the urban architectural decay... showing the collapse of the past in a different format."
Instead of being repelled by wear and tear, look closer. See the texture, the color palettes, the stories that time has written on the objects around you. The chipped mug in your cupboard is more interesting than the pristine one at the store because it has a history with you.
4. The "Five Senses Check-In" at Lunch
Most of us eat our lunch like we're refueling a car—quickly, mindlessly, and often while staring at a screen. We finish the meal and barely remember tasting it.
Thich Nhat Hanh, a Zen master and expert on mindfulness, taught that "Eating is an art." He said, "When I pick up my food... I take time to look at it for a moment before I put it in my mouth. If I am really present, I will recognize the food right away... I smile to it... and chew with complete awareness."
You don't have to be a Zen master to do this. Just try a Five Senses Check-In with your very next meal.
Before you take the first bite, pause.
- See: Look at the colors and textures on your plate.
- Smell: Close your eyes and inhale the aroma. What spices can you detect?
- Touch: Notice the temperature and texture of the food in your mouth.
- Taste: Chew slowly. Identify the different flavor profiles—salty, sweet, sour, umami.
- Hear: Listen to the crunch of the vegetables or the sizzle of the food.
Eating this way turns a turkey sandwich at your desk into a sensory experience. It grounds you in the present moment and makes you feel nourished, not just full.
5. Be a Tourist in Your Own Town
When we travel, our eyes are wide open. We notice the architecture, the street art, the way the light hits the buildings at sunset. We are primed for wonder.
When we are home, our brains go on autopilot. We drive the same routes, go to the same shops, and stop "seeing" our surroundings.
This weekend, give yourself permission to be a tourist in your own town. Go to that museum you haven't visited in ten years. Walk down a street you’ve never turned down before. Take photos of things that catch your eye, just like you would on vacation.
I recently did this and discovered a tiny, beautiful community garden hidden behind a busy street just five minutes from my house. I had driven past it hundreds of times and never knew it existed.
Wonder isn't about where you are; it's about how you look.
6. Curate the Soundtrack of Your Life
Never underestimate the power of music to change the emotional quality of a moment.
In movies, even the most mundane scenes—a character walking down the street, cooking dinner, staring out a window—feel significant because there is a score playing underneath them.
Treat your life like a movie. Curate playlists for different moods and activities. Have a "Morning Coffee & Contemplation" playlist that makes you feel peaceful and optimistic. Have a "Getting Stuff Done" playlist that makes you feel powerful.
I have a "Main Character Energy" playlist that I listen to when I'm walking to the grocery store. It turns a boring errand into a cinematic strut. Music is a shortcut to romanticizing your life. Use it unapologetically.
7. The "One-Line-a-Day" Gratitude Practice
Sometimes, finding inspiration feels like too much pressure. We think we need to have profound revelations every day.
Lower the bar. Make it stupidly easy to notice the good.
Start a "One-Line-a-Day" journal. Every single evening, write down just one thing from the day that was beautiful, interesting, or pleasant. It doesn't have to be ground-breaking.
- "The way the sun hit my cat's fur."
- "That really good cup of coffee at 10 AM."
- "Hearing an old song I love on the radio."
Author Ruth Reichl said, "The secret to life is finding joy in ordinary things." By training your brain to look for just one tiny nugget of joy each day, you are building the muscle of appreciation. Over time, you won't just be looking for one thing; you'll start noticing dozens.
Final Thoughts: The Magic Is Already Here
The famous artist Andy Warhol once said, "I like boring things." He understood that if you look at anything long enough, deep enough, and with enough curiosity, it ceases to be boring and becomes art.
Your life isn't boring. You’ve just stopped looking at it.
This week, I challenge you to stop waiting for the extraordinary. Stop waiting for Friday. Stop waiting for your life to become a movie.
Your life is happening right here, right now, in the messy, mundane Monday-ness of it all. It is filled with quiet miracles, sensory delights, and human connection, if you only have the eyes to see it.
What is one ordinary thing you are going to pay close attention to today?
Tell me in the comments. Let’s start a revolution of noticing.
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