An Ordinary Life

I don't think I ever posted this before. This is the text of a speech I delivered at my Toastmaster's club back in July of 2007. I won "best speech of the quarter" for this speech. I have edited it a bit to make sense for this blog.

I am sharing it now because I have been thinking about a word to choose for this year... for an Art Journal and just for meditation in general. I have chosen the word "Today", and the text below explains the reason for this word.


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I remember visiting my Grandma once when she was about, oh I would guess, 98 years old. She invited me to join her in Butter Brickle Ice Cream and Dad’s Root Beer. We sat around and watched the MacNeil-Lehrer Newshour, eating our ice cream. I remember her commenting on how she was sad that other people in the apartment gave up on current events, and how they made her “so mad” because she was sure they were “liberals”. And I remember thinking it odd that a 98 year old woman would keep Ice Cream and Root Beer in her kitchen. But looking back, I remember that my Grandma was an extraordinary person.

Sure, living to 103 is pretty extraordinary, as is living in your own place until you’re 99. But what was so extraordinary about my gram was how ordinary she was. She wasn’t the first woman to fly a plane or find a cure for cancer. She didn’t lobby against societal wrongs or volunteer to teach kids to read. What Gram did was teach me (and all her Grandchildren) to knit and fry eggs. She taught me how to do laundry and play Canasta. I remember her telling me that she would not play Canasta with me any longer if I kept getting upset when I lost. Gram was a pretty normal down to earth person, just what you would expect for someone born in 1895. Yet she was extra ordinary.

I have an extraordinary friend struggling with Cancer. Yet she strives to live every day as normally as possible. Her cancer is part of her life right now. Last Hallowe’en when she had no hair, she dressed up like Uncle Fester. Complete with the light bulb. When she was re-diagnosed for the second time recently, she said “Some people say to live every day like it is your last. I say, Live every day like it is the first one in the rest of your life.” I thought many months about what she meant, other than the obvious thought that she didn’t want today to be her last.

I now realize that what she was saying was that it’s not the extraordinary things we do that make our lives what they are, it is the ordinary things.

Some of you may have noticed I have lost some weight over the last year. I get a lot of questions about how I did it. I have trouble answering that question. Yeah, I go to WeightWatchers, but anything extraordinary? Nope. It wasn’t Thanksgiving dinner that did me in; I had put the weight on through ordinary, day to day eating. So the best way to take it off? Day-in day-out eating better and moving more. The actual means to weight loss was nothing extraordinary in itself, but overall I’d say the results are extraordinary.

Dag Hammarskjold wrote the following in his book “Markers”. "The great commitment is so much easier than the ordinary, every day one”. Mr. Hammarskjold was the secretary general of the UN from 1953 to 1961. He won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1961. One could dare say he lead an extraordinary life. Yet he knew the importance of the ordinary.

And I’m glad that ordinary can be extra ordinary. I strive for ordinary experiences for my family. This past week I have been to the wading pool 3 or 4 times. I have played Monopoly with my kids. I had to tell my daughter I wouldn’t play with her anymore if she pouted when she lost. I read them books and told them stories. I have eaten Ice Cream and drank Root Beer. I have charged my girls to clean off the table and make their beds. My charge to you? Infuse your life with a sense of extraordinary in the ordinary.

And maybe even teach your kids to play Canasta tonight.