From Katie

Somehow I got to thinking about this book I read in high school, The Things They Carried. It's a Vietnam war memoir. There's this one part where the main character, Tim, is lying in a ditch or a foxhole I guess, its night, and he's under attack. He's lying on his back in the mud describing the wretched feeling in his gut, impending death, not just his own but all around him, and then he starts describing what he actually sees in the sky. The rockets and gunfire lit up the sky, colorful ribbons of light against black. And he felt awe. It was beautiful. He explained that war was neither completely horrid nor was it honorable. The truth was there was no truth, except that for Tim, a proximity to death brought a corresponding proximity to life.

What does this have to do with anything? There's no telling someone who's going through a hard time that things are not as bad as they seem. They are, but they are more than that. As difficult as it is to swallow, sometimes it's the shit we take in life that makes us more apt to find utter joy in the chestnuts. Little things bring you to tears a little easier than before. And in the pain, the smallest signs of happiness are what make it possible to keep trucking on. A good meatball, a warm piece of bread, and other non food related small things. This fact has always been the case, but now it's perhaps a bit more noticeable.

I hope you find comfort and awe in the little things on a daily basis.