The Moments Between the Moments
Why the Parts of Life We Barely Notice Matter More Than We Think
We tend to remember life by its highlights.
The vacations. The celebrations. The dinners with people we love. The accomplishments. The holidays. The beginnings and endings. The moments important enough to photograph, mark on a calendar, or tell someone about later.
But between all of those moments are thousands of others.
The drive there.
The coffee before everyone wakes up.
Standing outside while the dog investigates the same patch of grass for what feels like forever.
Waiting for someone to come downstairs.
Watching the scenery through the passenger window.
The few quiet minutes after dinner when nobody has gotten up from the table yet.
We rarely think of these as the meaningful parts of life.
They're just the spaces between the things we're doing.
Except...
they're our life, too.
Lots of Colors - Lots of Style
We Decide Which Moments Count
Without realizing it, we tend to place experiences into categories.
There are the things we're doing.
And then there is everything surrounding them.
Dinner is the event. Driving to the restaurant isn't.
The vacation begins when we arrive. The airport doesn't count.
The party matters. Setting the table beforehand is preparation.
Meeting a friend for coffee is something. Waiting for her to arrive is nothing.
We mentally place parentheses around certain portions of the day and call those the important parts.
Everything else becomes transition.
But life doesn't actually contain those divisions.
We create them.
The Strange Way We Treat Waiting
Think about how often we're waiting for something.
For the coffee to brew.
For the light to change.
For the microwave to beep.
For someone to call.
For an appointment to begin.
For everyone else to get ready.
For the plane to board.
For Friday.
For summer.
For the next chapter of our lives to begin.
Waiting often feels like time we're supposed to get through.
And technology has made it remarkably easy to fill almost every second of it. A line at the grocery store becomes an opportunity to check our phones. Three minutes before an appointment becomes three minutes to scroll.
There's nothing inherently wrong with that.
But it does mean there are fewer moments when absolutely nothing is demanding our attention.
And those tiny openings used to give us something we may not have realized we were getting.
Time to look around.
Some of Life's Sweetest Moments Weren't Planned
Think about some of the memories you love.
They may not all be the moments you expected to remember.
Maybe it was laughing in the kitchen while everyone was getting dinner ready.
The conversation in the car after the party.
Sitting on the hotel balcony before anyone else woke up.
Your child telling you something unexpectedly funny while you were running errands.
The way your mother used to hum while she cooked.
A dog asleep at your feet while you worked.
Talking in the driveway for another twenty minutes after already saying goodbye.
None of these moments necessarily announce themselves as important.
That's part of what makes them beautiful.
They weren't trying to become memories.
They were simply life happening.
The Journey Isn't Just What Happens at the Destination
We often organize life around arrival.
Get through the workweek to reach the weekend.
Get through the airport to reach the vacation.
Get through the errands so we can relax.
Get through this stage so we can reach the next one.
There will always be another destination.
But imagine how much life disappears if we only fully value the places where we arrive.
A road trip isn't only the place at the end of the highway.
It's the music in the car.
The ridiculous snacks from the gas station.
The unexpected view around a bend.
The conversations that happen because you've been sitting beside someone for four hours.
The wrong turn that becomes part of the story.
The journey isn't the interruption before the experience.
Sometimes it becomes one of the best parts of it.
There Is Life in the Before and After
Some moments have an atmosphere all their own simply because of where they sit in time.
The house before guests arrive.
A theater before the curtain rises.
The kitchen early on Thanksgiving morning.
The few minutes before a storm.
A hotel room while you're getting ready for dinner.
The quiet after everyone leaves.
A beach when you're packing everything up at the end of the day.
These aren't necessarily the events we'll put into the photo album.
But they carry something.
Anticipation.
Contentment.
Stillness.
The lingering feeling of something that just happened.
Sometimes the edges of an experience are every bit as beautiful as its center.
Ordinary Rituals Become the Texture of a Life
There are also moments we repeat so often that they nearly disappear from our awareness.
Opening the curtains in the morning.
Making coffee.
Watering the plants.
Walking to the mailbox.
Feeding the dog.
Folding laundry while something plays in the background.
Standing at the kitchen counter cutting vegetables.
Turning off the lights before bed.
Individually, they can seem insignificant.
Collectively, they form the texture of everyday life.
Years from now, some of the things we miss most may not be extraordinary experiences at all.
They may be the ordinary rituals we once barely noticed.
Not Every Moment Needs to Become Meaningful
There's an important distinction here.
We don't need to turn every second into something profound.
We don't need to stare thoughtfully at our coffee every morning or transform standing in line at the pharmacy into a spiritual experience.
That would become another kind of pressure.
Some moments really are just moments.
We can be distracted.
We can scroll.
We can daydream.
We can rush.
We can be bored.
The invitation isn't to make every moment meaningful.
It's simply to stop assuming that meaning only lives in the moments we've decided are important.
Sometimes it appears somewhere else entirely.
Leave a Little Room for Nothing in Particular
Perhaps occasionally we can resist filling the gap.
Stand at the window while the coffee brews.
Watch the neighborhood pass while someone else drives.
Sit outside for another five minutes after finishing lunch.
Look around while waiting in line.
Listen to the conversation happening in the kitchen.
Let a few minutes remain unassigned.
Not because we need to accomplish anything with them.
But because something surprisingly lovely happens when life isn't constantly being divided into productive time, important time, entertainment time, and waiting time.
We begin noticing all the time that was there in between.
This Is Part of the Story, Too
Someday, when we look back on our lives, we'll remember some of the big moments.
The trips.
The celebrations.
The milestones.
The people.
But woven between them will be thousands upon thousands of ordinary afternoons, car rides, kitchens, sidewalks, waiting rooms, conversations, mornings, errands and quiet minutes that never seemed important enough to remember.
Together, they will have made up an enormous portion of the life we lived.
Maybe that's worth remembering now.
The moments between the moments aren't empty space.
They're not the intermission.
They're not time we have to get through before life starts again.
This is part of the story, too.
Truly,
Tamara