"Happiness.  Not for another place, but this place.  Not for another hour, but this hour."
-Walt Whitman

Life has been a little hectic since January.  Ok, very hectic.  Hectic to the point that it is difficult to come out of multi-tasking mode.  I guess that's what happens when you "double down" on kids.  Yesterday, I was in the car without them (my friend was driving) and it felt like I was neglecting something or someone because I could just sit there and do nothing but chat with her.  On a daily basis, I have adjusted to juggling as many tasks as possible.  I only sometimes pour egg whites instead of cream in my coffee or panic that I left my wallet in a parking lot when it's really in my bag where it belongs, but usually things turn out okay. 

I've heard it said that multitasking in this way can make us unable to do anything well.  That may be true in some aspects of life, but in my case a strange thing has happened.  I have become better at appreciating goodness.  When I do have moments of peace or happiness or joy, I experience those moments so much more vividly than ever before.  I guess maybe it's because it takes more work to achieve a state of calm, or because that state is more rare.  But I just started to really stop and allow myself to take in the glow of sunshine on my face, or the sound of my kids laughing in the crashing waves, or the smell of the grill.  And it got me thinking: why didn't I do this before? Why wasn't I acutely aware of the vibrant joy in every day life?

I have to note that losing my mom  five years ago brought me a lot of clarity about living in the moment and the things that really matter.  Anyone who has lost a loved one can relate to the feeling that life is short.  That each day must be lived.  Really lived.  I now realize that the definition of real living evolves with us as we make our journey.  This morning in between grabbing a quick shower after feeding the twins their morning cereal and filing claims for work, I thought: the level of craziness at which I'm currently operating is certainly not ordinary.  My life is not ordinary.  But then, whose life is?  

Ten years ago, living an extra-ordinary life had a whole different meaning for me. I marveled at bright blue lakes while hiking in Croatia and took in the beauty of Piazza Navona under the night sky with the one I love.  But now I am starting to find the same joy in the simplest aspects of every day life.  In the realization that my life is not ordinary even though I do ordinary things every day. 

In all of the chaos, my focus has sharpened.  I think (in order to survive) I have unconsciously prioritized the things that truly matter and begun to ignore the rest of the noise.  And this has made me tune into joy even more deliberately than before.  It is possible to be joyful in the midst of chaos.  I'm not sure if it's my life experience or my current state of chaos that helped me to realize this, but I know it's something I want to pass on to my kids.  Be present.  Be open.  Be busy and crazy and live a life that is full, but in the frantic shuffle of it all, don't lose your focus.  If you look for joy, you will realize it is all around you.