Beauty is not defined by the one who sees, but by the one who feels.

I’m not going to act like my day to day is unique or mystical. I wake up to cats who demand to be fed immediately. They rule the house, we live to serve them. Make the first cup of coffee to start my half hour of pondering while staring out the front window. Never remember all the places my ADHD brain wonders. Get ready for work, struggle to match colors, pick the best fuzzy socks that are still clean. Make a quick breakfast, brush teeth, grab my bag and head off to work. I drive to the train station, take the train into NYC, then shuttle to work. Works always interesting, a whole lot of science and coffee. Co-workers are great, we all get along and it’s all positive. I take the commute home, have dinner, hangout with my family and cats, raid social media, then shower, sleep and repeat. It sounds mundane to most, but it’s not to me anymore. There once was a time I dreaded the first breath of my conscious day. Rising from bed was painful. I felt no purpose, everything about me was a failure. I hated my boring life. Slowly this view point shifted. I don’t know exactly when it started. I’ve been through many things, but the most impactful was when a few people I loved died. After the fourth person passed I finally realized life isn’t about having a flashy, exciting, crazy, eventful day. It’s about enjoying the moment. Making plans the day of and living them thoroughly. Letting yourself feel everything. Take just a few short seconds to watch a bird and admire how this little potato with wings manages to take flight.

So In time I found myself enjoying the little things that use to make me want to literally die. My life may seem boring to most, but it’s absolutely beautiful to me. The gift of waking up to give the cats morning treats is enough for