Quietly Extraordinary

To paraphrase, or completely bastardize, Margaret Wolfe Hungerford: Ordinary is in the eye of the beholder. Ordinary. Mundane. Common. Regular. These are words we use to describe that which is not special. But how many ordinary moments are missed because we’re chasing the special ones? We push through the week because the weekend is special. Young parents mark milestones in their children’s lives, often overlooking the ones filled with smaller magic. They remember (and record) the first steps, first words, and first days of school but forget the wishes made on dandelion puffs.

By outward appearances, my life weighs in as an ordinary one. I’ve had my share of big moments and adventures, but for the most part it has been a series of experiences and things that are quietly extraordinary.

What does it mean to be quietly extraordinary? The most obvious explanation is something that is truly magical but happens so frequently that we take it for granted. Or we are exposed to a magical occurrence secondhand, through television or social media. The person recording and sharing the moment is observing the extraordinary nature of the event, but the experience is diminished when it becomes a one-dimensional share.

Monarch butterflies are a perfect example. They exist in our world both as flying marvels of art, science, beauty, and grace. Yet they are so common that their likeness is printed on everything from journals and stationery to household decorations and clothing. Butterflies are all around us and a lot of the time we don’t even notice them. Despite this, they’re anything but ordinary. They’re quietly extraordinary.

A friend can easily share pictures of their butterfly garden, meticulously recording the caterpillar to chrysalis to butterfly stages. This metamorphosis is a thrilling and profound experience for them and while we can understand to some degree, because we know how the process works, we can only relate from the position of one-dimensional response. But, if we have our own butterfly garden, or visit one in our area, and can observe the moment when the butterfly emerges from the chrysalis, we experience this extraordinary transformation on a completely different level.

Take this one step further, from the butterfly’s perspective. They transition from something that isn’t a butterfly, into something that doesn’t even seem to be a life form (I know, this is not the place for semantics – I’m having a moment), and then again into the magnificent, winged creature destined to fly hundreds of miles while fulfilling its critical role in the food chain. This is extraordinary on every level, yet it happens on a scale that would deem it to be a regular, or ordinary occurrence. Regular, yes. Ordinary, not at all.

And to the butterfly, it’s all part of their regular and ordinary life-cycle. They are simply following the way (of the butterfly). The way… to where, though? That’s the thing. The way may take them from Canada to Mexico, but it doesn’t lead anywhere. It’s simply the way.

People are very different from butterflies and feel the need to rationalize. We want to know when and where and how and why before we begin. When we start thinking about where the way will lead us, we lose the way. Looking for someplace other than where we are, is looking for a place that doesn’t exist.

As humans, we have free will so if we don’t like where we are or where we’re going, it is possible to change course, but first we must recognize and accept our situation as reality. Once we accept what is, we can also begin to accept that there’s nothing more we need to know about anything. Then comes the realization that the best moment in our lives hasn’t already happened or isn’t yet to happen. It’s happening right now. Always.

For everything to exist, everything must exist. Nothing is irrelevant. Nothing is mundane. Nothing is ordinary. Nothing is special. Nothing and everything. We tend to think: ‘this can’t be it, there must be more than this’. We live our lives with the belief that problems must be solved, but the solution is to realize that there is no problem, there is only the path. And how we learn to do this is to observe the problem as it happens and accept it without trying to fix it or wonder how we could have prevented it from happening in the first place. There is often a sense of pride in identifying as a problem solver and when there are no problems, we find it necessary to invent some because that’s who we are.

Jimmy Buffett wrote in his song “Son of a Son of a Sailor”: “Where it all ends, I can’t fathom my friends. If I knew I might throw out my anchor.” If the butterfly knew the way meant flying hundreds of miles through treacherous and dangerous terrain and weather, it would be hesitant to fulfill its role in the ecosystem. By the same token, our ability to reason often prevents us from fulfilling our own life’s purpose. It also prevents us from experiencing the immeasurable number of quietly extraordinary moments that make our ordinary lives unique and special.

I’m going to make a cup of tea now, and ponder all the quietly extraordinary steps taken in the ordinary way of the tea leaf.

If you would like to know more about my ancestral connection work, my Daoist path, or my other offerings such as tarot readings, spiritual guidance and mindset coaching, you can find more detailed information by using the drop-down menu on my website: The Mystic’s Parlour (the-mystics-parlour.ghost.io)

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