Okay, can we just talk about something for a second? The other day, I found myself down a rabbit hole of old photos on my phone. You know how it goes—you start looking for one specific picture and suddenly you’re three hours deep, cringing at your 2016 haircut and marveling at how tiny your dog used to be. But what really got me wasn’t the nostalgia or the laugh. It was this weird, quiet realization that I’ve been so focused on the big, shiny milestones in life that I’ve totally glossed over the small, messy, in-between stuff that actually makes up who I am.

I was sitting there on my couch, coffee going cold (as usual), and I thought, When did I stop paying attention to the little things? Like, I can tell you exactly what I was doing when I got my first big freelance client, but I can’t for the life of me remember what my best friend and I laughed about until we cried last Tuesday. And that felt… off. So I did what I always do when I’m spiraling a little—I grabbed my notebook and started jotting down thoughts. And what came out of that messy brain-dump is what I want to share with you today. It’s not a life-coach lecture. It’s just some honest stuff I’ve been mulling over, and I hope it resonates with you the way it did with me.

Let’s Stop Romanticizing the “Big Moments”

Here’s the thing about our culture—we are obsessed with the highlight reel. The engagement, the promotion, the new house, the perfectly curated vacation with golden-hour lighting. And don’t get me wrong, I love a good milestone as much as the next girl. I still get butterflies thinking about the day I moved into my first apartment with just a mattress on the floor and a plant I was determined not to kill (spoiler: I killed it). But here’s what I’ve realized: those big moments are rare. They’re like fireworks—beautiful, loud, and over in a flash. If I’m only looking up at the sky waiting for the next explosion, I’m missing the entire night sky that’s just… quietly there, every single day.

I had a conversation with my mom last week that really drove this home. She was telling me about a random Tuesday from my childhood—not a birthday, not a holiday, just a Tuesday. She remembered how I’d insisted on wearing my rainbow rain boots to the grocery store even though it was sunny, and how I’d spent the whole trip “helping” her pick out apples by holding each one up to my ear like I was listening for something. She laughed, and I just sat there thinking, I have zero memory of that. But to her, that tiny, silly moment is a treasure. It hit me that my life isn’t made of the big events—it’s made of a thousand tiny Tuesdays like that one.

So I’ve started a little experiment with myself. Whenever I catch myself thinking, “I’ll be happy when…” or “Life will feel full once I…”, I try to pause. I look around at where I actually am. And you know what? The other day, I was standing in my kitchen making pasta, and my partner walked in and started dancing with me to a song that was barely playing on the radio. It was clumsy, and I was holding a wooden spoon, and we almost knocked over a jar of sauce. And I thought, This is it. This is the stuff. Not the vacation. Not the promotion. This ridiculous, sauce-threatening dance.

My (Very Un-Scientific) Guide to Noticing More

Okay, so I’m not here to tell you to meditate for an hour every morning or to keep a gratitude journal with gold-leafed pages. I’m way too much of a realist (and a procrastinator) for that. But I have found a few little tricks that help me tune in more often, and I figured I’d share them in case you’re feeling that same “blah” fog I was in.

• Put the phone down (even for 10 minutes). I know, I know—groundbreaking advice. But seriously, I realized I was scrolling through other people’s lives while my own was happening right in front of me. Now, when I’m waiting for my coffee to brew or standing in line, I try to just… look around. I notice the way the light hits the counter, or the old lady in front of me with the coolest earrings I’ve ever seen. It’s like my brain gets a little reset.
• Ask “What was the best part of today?” at dinner. This is a tiny thing, but it forces me to actually sift through the day and find a gem. Sometimes it’s a big win, but honestly, most of the time it’s something like, “The cashier at the drugstore was super sweet” or “I found a $5 bill in my winter coat pocket.” It’s a muscle, and you have to flex it.
• Do one thing “wrong” on purpose. This sounds weird, but hear me out. I’m such a rule-follower. I like things done a certain way. But I recently took a different route home from the gym just because, and I discovered this tiny little park with a bench that overlooks the whole city. I sat there for five minutes, not doing anything, and it was glorious. Breaking your own routine is like giving your brain a little surprise party.
• Write down the weird stuff. I keep a note on my phone called “Little Joys.” It’s not a diary. It’s just a running list of things that made me smile that day—a funny text from my sister, a really good bite of a sandwich, the way my cat looked at me like I was an idiot. Looking back at that list on a bad day is better than any pep talk I could give myself.

I tried this whole “noticing” thing on a walk last weekend, and let me tell you, it was a trip. I saw a dad teaching his kid how to ride a bike, and the kid was so wobbly and determined. I saw a guy absolutely destroying a hot dog on a bench like it was his last meal. I saw three different dogs who all looked like they were wearing tiny wigs. And I walked home feeling so much lighter, just because I’d paid attention. It sounds so simple, but it’s honestly revolutionary for my brain.

The Takeaway That’s Been Sticking With Me

I’m not saying I’ve got this all figured out. Literally an hour after my little walk, I was stressing about a deadline and snapped at my partner for leaving his socks on the floor (again). I’m human. I’m going to get caught up in the noise and the stress and the endless to-do lists. But I’m trying to remember that the noise isn’t the whole story. The story is in the quiet moments, the silly dances, the random Tuesdays, and the tiny little joys that are sprinkled all over my day like confetti—if I’m just willing to look down and see them.

So here’s my gentle challenge to you (and to myself, honestly): For the next few days, try to catch one small, unremarkable moment that makes you feel something. It doesn’t have to be profound. It can be the smell of rain on hot pavement or the way your favorite mug feels in your hands. Just notice it. Hold onto it for a second. I promise, you’ll start to see that your life is already so full of these little treasures—you just have to stop looking at your phone long enough to spot them. Sending you all the warm, fuzzy, “I’m paying attention now” vibes. 🤍