I’ve always found the tradition of a coat of arms and motto interesting. It says a lot about the values of a lineage – what a family or institution stood for and what they wish to continue to stand for even once each of its members pass. The value still continues and has life. I don’t know if my family has a motto, but I decided to create one to represent what I have stood for and will continue to stand for. I have no one to pass my lineage to, but I know there are plenty of people out there who live by – and can start to live by – its value anyway: Magic in the mundane.

This past month I have felt the edges of the horrid familiar feeling of loneliness. But I know I will pull through because for what can be considered a period of time rather than a fleeting moment, this is the best my life has been. Whilst the past month of feelings have been unpleasant, it is nothing compared to what came before. And during those times, and also during happy times, I call upon gratitude for the little things in life. It really helps to keep me going.

A few weeks ago I redrafted my life plan. It was oddly bereft of things to do and achieve, and I realised it’s because I’ve done far too much and probably achieved too much too (if the caseload of certificates I found whilst clearing my belongings is anything to go by). And in the end I guess life is more about the heart of who we are, who we want to be, and how we want to show up in the world.

For me, finding magic in the mundane is exceptionally important to living a full life and especially if you’re also a person who sometimes struggles with feeling a sense of connection to ‘something, anything at all‘. The mundane makes up the bulk of our lives, yet it often gets ignored for the showier things like presents, holidays, grand gestures and events. But these things are fleeting, whereas the mundane is ever-present. So if we can see the magic in it, then it can make for a happier life.

For very many years when things were at their worst, I could not find magic in anything much except for a cup of tea. I used to take great care in the boiling of the water, the pouring of it, the movement of the teabag, the admiration of the swirls of colour as the tea infused within the water, the splash of milk (yes, I’m British so we do that ‘wrong thing’ of adding milk 🙂 ), and would really take in the moment of drinking that cup of tea. For that one moment in a day, I felt warmth and that sense of connection to things around me.

Nature is like that too. I don’t find nature mundane, but I know plenty who enjoy nature for a time but who would find my quiet life too quiet. When I spend time in it, so much magic is happening around me that any sense of loneliness dissipates. Compared to a city, I think a lot of things are happening in nature even though it seems so still. Concrete buildings of the city are still and dead, but trees change with the season and each year they rebirth. A recent ‘mundane’ moment that comes to mind was spotting a female grouse/hen with her upper body completely taut whilst her legs moved so hurriedly that the distinction between the stillness of her upper body and the chaos of her leg movements caused me a great amount of laughter. I still smile when recalling the moment.

Perhaps more mundane moments that I find magic within are things like clicking a pen on and off. Is there anything more tactilely satisfying? I also love the clicking sound of the front door as I pull it close, and the sound of turning the key in the lock when I return home. The mundane are moments like that: the ones that almost act as liminal space and are such ‘nothing’ instances that we don’t really even register them as being a part of our lives. But we can take pleasure in these little moments. And the good news is that most of the time they are simple and accessible things. We may find many of them if we take a moment to look. And because the mundane makes up so much of life, if we find enough of these magical moments we suddenly realise that actually the bulk of our lives are magical. We don’t need to rely on the big things so much to be happy. We don’t even need life to ‘work out’.

Other mundane things that featured during the first hour of my morning:

…the first stretch in the morning.

…the coir type texture of the stairs rug in the property I’m renting that I feel underfoot as I navigate the house.

…the suction feeling of the fridge door closing.

…the first breath of fresh air when I step out for the day.

…the many shades of green of foliage as I travel to the train station.

…the mist over the fields.

…snapping my coat pocket shut (it has a snap button).

…the aural ‘nothingness’ of my noise cancelling headphones.

…that moment when the step of an escalator turns flat so you can walk off it.

And even with these few things recounted, writing this post has vanished loneliness’ grip that seemed as if it might have gone from being the edge of a feeling to a firm one. It’s kept at bay, thanks to these mundane moments. Best of all, the mundane is reliable. It is always there, waiting for its magic to be noticed.