But these moments pass. Not every decision is wrought with that intensity of feeling, and the knowledge of the all-important purpose. The majority of decisions in life are tiny, and feel so insignificant as to be purposeless. Showering, doing dishes, driving to work, what song to listen to on the radio, what to eat for dinner, what to do for entertainment. Contrasted with the potential actions that could help save or lose a life, with the huge changes that are made, marriage, divorce, children, moving. All these small decisions can begin to feel automatic, and meaningless.
But a choice is a choice. There is cosmic significance in the very act of choosing. We alter the course of our lives through the choices we make. That is the power we have. To alter ourselves, to alter our interactions with others.
I feel like in writing, it all comes to rest around these cosmic moments. It is not just some every day person doing some every day thing, though I do enjoy writing about those things. A person enjoying the first strawberry of the season. It is a scene, but not a story.
When I think of how important this day really is, in the scheme of things, it makes me want to weep, for I feel I have utterly wasted it. I have let myself get beaten down by little things that should not matter. Whether it is today or a thousand years from now, the only time I have to experience is now. I deserve happiness now, in this moment, and if I am not, I should be working towards it.
Today is not a cosmic moment. It is one more day in the uphill struggle for happiness. It is a fight against the current, to not let all the reasons to be unhappy win out, but to struggle for happiness, and end with a smile on my face, perhaps tears in my eyes, but tears that I know will dry into joy.
I love being alive, in this totally ordinary moment that seems inconsequential. The only thing that makes this moment matter is that I am choosing to be happy. That I am taking my ability to choose and using it. And I smile.