For a long time, I thought the best days of my life would be the obvious ones. The milestone moments. The celebrations. The days that are carefully planned and eagerly anticipated.
But I've come to realise the best days are much smaller than that. They are moments so ordinary you could almost miss them.
A conversation with a friend so honest and raw it feels like your souls have quietly met. A belly laugh so hard you have to hold onto something. Losing yourself belting out your favourite song. A comfortable silence. Is there anything more nourishing than sitting beside someone in complete quiet? To me, it's one of the truest signs of love.
Flowers from the garden. A shell from a beach walk that sits on your desk. A glass of Barolo. A hug. A favourite cashmere sweater. Elbows worn, cuffs stretched, softer with every wear. The kind of comfort only that sweater can give.
Buttery toast in bed, made by hands that know and love you. My daughter's butter cheek pressed against mine. Her cheek, her cheek.
Simple days and simple things with no layers or expectations that somehow stand out above the rest.
I've realised that noticing these moments is one of the greatest gifts I've ever given myself. To become fascinated by the ordinary, to notice its quiet extraordinariness.
Because, if we're really honest, the best days aren't the ones we were told would matter most.
They're the ones we almost miss.
- Paula
