I’ve been thinking a lot lately about average days.
Not bad days.
Not extraordinary days.
Just… average ones.
The kind where you get up, have your coffee, go to work, answer emails, checking some things off your daily to-do list, solve a problem for someone, call a friend on the drive home, make dinner, watch a little television, and go to bed.
Nothing remarkable.
Nothing headline-worthy.
Just average.
I’ve been rereading Tuesdays with Morrie, and there’s a thought in the book that stayed with me. It made me wonder if we’ve become so focused on extraordinary moments that we’ve forgotten to appreciate the quiet perfection of average ones.
We spend so much of our lives waiting for something bigger.
The promotion.
The vacation.
The celebration.
The milestone.
The day we’ll always remember.
But life isn’t mostly made of those days.
Life is made of Tuesdays.
It’s made of a cup of coffee with a colleague.
A conversation with a friend that lasts a little longer than expected.
Helping someone solve a problem.
Finishing everything on your list and feeling quietly satisfied.
Calling your mom just to hear her voice.
None of those moments are extraordinary by themselves.
But together, they become a life.
I sometimes wonder if we’re chasing memorable days so hard that we’re overlooking the beauty of average ones.
Because an average day is often a healthy day.
A peaceful day.
A productive day.
A day where nothing fell apart.
A day where the people we love were still here.
That’s not something to rush past.
That’s something to be grateful for.
Maybe perfection isn’t found in the days that stand out.
Maybe it’s found in the days that simply unfold as they should.
The average days.
The ones we rarely write about.
The ones we hardly remember.
The ones that quietly become our lives.
Maybe we don’t need more extraordinary moments.
Maybe we just need to notice the perfection that already exists in an average day.
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