The Weight of Small Things

Reclaiming our sense of wonderment

"Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory." - Theodor Seuss Geisel

This should not have gutted me. But it did.

I noticed this toy helicopter lying on its side in the recently vacated booth next to me at an ice cream parlour last evening. Its abandonment was most likely unintentional, left behind by some little sweetheart too caught up in the sugar high from his s’mores milkshake or his mom’s hurried need to leave to notice they’d forgotten it.

In a world punctuated by war, political strife, social and economic anxiety, and climate fears, this small abandoned piece of plastic hit me harder than it probably should have.

Perhaps it’s because we are all so desperate for innocence right now. Every notification, every headline, every viral soundbite showcasing the latest orchestrated chaos seems to chip away at whatever protective shell we’ve built around our hearts. It’s as if every Breaking News Alert that arrives in our inboxes creates another small crack in the foundation of our optimism, until we’re left wondering if there is anything left to protect.

So many of us are trying to find that sweet spot between remaining informed while retaining our sanity right now. We’re carrying the weight of every crisis du jour on our shoulders while scrolling through endless feeds of despair, forgetting that we too were once just kids in ice cream parlours, completely absorbed in the simple joy of our Barbie or book or toy helicopter.

But here's what gives me a modicum of hope: somewhere out there, a child loved this toy enough to take it with him. Somewhere, despite everything, kids are still being kids. They're still finding magic in the mundane of plastic toys and yummy treats. Still living in that beautiful bubble where the biggest tragedy is a lost helicopter, not a lost cause. Maybe instead of mourning this forsaken toy I should celebrate that these moments of our childhood still exist. That joy still finds its way through the cracks of our hyper serious adult world.

The child I was
Is just one breath away from me. - Sharon Olds

In the end, perhaps this little abandoned helicopter isn't just about loss. Maybe it's a reminder that even in our darkest times ice cream parlours still open their doors, children still play make-believe, and small moments of delight still wait to be discovered. We just have to remember to look for them, to protect them, and sometimes to let ourselves feel them again just as deeply as we did when we were young.

So my wish for you this weekend: may you find your own version of this little boy’s ice cream parlour moment. May you discover something that reminds you of simpler times, something that cracks open your heart just enough to let even a tiny bit of wonderment back in.

Whether it’s that first sip of coffee, the wet nose of a puppy, or the sunlight catching the leaves, I hope you stumble upon a small pocket of joy that reminds you magic still exists in our world, waiting patiently to be noticed.

🙏🏼 🚁

Toni

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