What if the moments we remember most are the ones we almost didn’t make time for?
Last Thursday, after a full day of leadership training at UConn, Paul and I headed to the Windsor Town Green to listen to music from the summer concert series.
We had no agenda. No rushing. No worries.
Just music, grandchildren running barefoot on the grass…
. . . and one very unusual guest.
A duck named The Quackin.
Our son Dove has been raising him since he was hatched after his mother disappeared. Wherever Dove goes, The Quackin follows.
Throughout the evening people wandered over, smiling, asking questions, petting him, laughing together.
It was impossible not to smile.
The children were having the time of their lives.
But I found myself watching the adults.
Their faces softened. They laughed. They asked questions. For a few moments, I could see the child in them too.
And The Quackin is so soft. And Dove is so engaging as they held the duck out for petting.
The reflection
As I looked around, I realized something.
Everyone there has a story.
Some were seniors enjoying the evening and the music. Some were raising young children. Some were most likely working long hours. Some were probably carrying worries no one else could see.
Some were running booths and educating others or selling stuff.
And yet, for two hours…
People simply enjoyed being together.
No one was trying to impress anyone. No one was checking accomplishments. No one cared what anyone did for a living.
We were all just… being.
I wonder how often we convince ourselves we’ll slow down “after this project” or “next month” or “when life settles down.”
But life rarely settles down.
The moments we’re longing for are often already here, quietly waiting for us to notice them.
Something I always mention in my classes.
One of the lessons I teach is that we can’t lead others well if we’re constantly running on empty.
Sometimes renewal isn’t a vacation or a special spa day (although that works!).
Sometimes it’s just relaxing in a lawn chair. A community concert. Watching children play with no responsibility other than enjoying the moment. A duck named The Quackin and all his funny antics. And watching strangers smile because something unexpected reminded them to slow down.
Back at home
When we got home, Paul and I both changed the wallpaper on our phones.
Without saying a word to each other, we’d each chosen the exact same photo of the kids from the evening.
I laughed when he showed me because I had just chosen the same photo!
Apparently we had both recognized the same thing:
This was one of those moments worth remembering.
We spend so much of life chasing the big moments.
But perhaps the richest parts of life aren’t the milestones after all.
They’re ordinary summer evenings that quietly become our favorite memories. Remember those when you were a kid?
I hope you make time for one of those this week.
Maureen
