Small, Magic Things

how the periodic table showed me joy

The other day, my oldest kiddo put up a printed picture of the periodic table right by the bed.

I can’t exactly explain it, but there’s this joy that bubbles up in me knowing my children are excited by science, by the wonders of the world that have inspired so many people throughout the centuries.

Right now, we’re tired. Still. We are still tired. We are tired of this damn pandemic, we are tired of each other, and yet we miss one another deeply. We are tired of the fights and the social media posts and our depression and anxiety. We are tired of being afraid, and we are tired of hoping for a better reality. We are tired of the inequity and the oppression and the hate. We are tired of ourselves, and maybe we feel a little tired of God, too.

So dragging ourselves through the slush of what it means to be human right now is an entire experience, and most of the time, I don’t even have words—just sighs, heavy tears, and moments of joy that I am grateful to find, however short-lived they are.

Today I walked past the kids’ room and there are now large pieces of paper taped to the top of the wall, three elements so far with more to come, written in 10-year-old handwriting, written out of pure imagination and excitement.

I could cry just thinking about it, because when I was young, after my parents divorced and I had to live in my own inner world to create peace, I found inspiration in the most surprising places.

I’d sing, go outside, become friends with the television show characters I watched, write poems, spend time thinking about other languages I wanted to learn, or pretend I was running a cafe in our little kitchen.

When the world was hard, too hard, and I was too tired to process it fully, I found magic in the small things.

So, I leave this with you today, this week, in the coming months, whatever they end up being like for you:

What small thing can you find magic in?

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Onward, friends, together.