For the past couple of weeks I keep seeing the same billboard off the highway as I crawl through traffic.
It’s for a car—don’t ask me which one—and the slogan reads, “It moves you.”
I’m always struck by the line. Every time I read it I wonder: what is it that really moves me? Not in the physical sense—that I get, but the emotionally stirring kind.
I can think of times in my life when that feeling washed over me, sometimes even overwhelmed me. The times when I was touched beyond belief by someone’s kindness, awestruck by my surroundings, surprised in a good way or just one of those make-you-melt-movie-moments.
The one thing they had in common? They were monumental in some way, some even captured in photos.
But I know there are lots of little things that move me too. I just couldn’t list them as easily.
I didn’t like that.
So I set out on a mission, a quest of sorts. For a week, I would pay attention to everything to see what moves me. I wasn’t looking for grand declarations or life changing moments. I wanted normal, simple, everyday things.
And I spotted them, a lot more than I thought I would.
There was the older couple on the train who held hands the whole ride. There was the former student who, having not seen me in months, screamed in joy and gave me a hug—in the middle of a crowd of people exiting an elevator. And there was an unexpected talk with a friend who, without realizing it, restored a little faith in me.
There were other moments too, but it was what I thought of as I sat down to write this that may stay with me even longer.
It’s all about perception.
Because I was looking for beautiful, touching moments, I found them. I could have fixated on annoying, frustrating, obnoxious moments that happen throughout my day—because those are there too, but because I was so focused on finding the good around me, I did.
The same can be said about jobs, experiences, memories or people. You choose to see what you are looking for.
Now I’m not saying I’m going to skip around with rose colored glasses and pom poms and turn everything into a positive—sometimes that’s just not possible. But in these last couple of years I’ve found a lot more good comes from looking for the positive and it’s usually there—even if it’s just a nugget.
A nugget is better than nothing.
Thanks for the reminder. I needed it.
And more than that, it moved me.