on romanticising your life.
a guide to finding magic in the ordinary — and why it might be the most radical thing you do.
i romanticise everything. the morning coffee going cold because i got distracted writing. the specific quality of afternoon light through a window i've looked out of a hundred times. the way a song can make a tuesday feel significant.
people have said it like it's a warning. "you romanticise everything." as if that's a flaw. as if noticing the texture of ordinary moments is a kind of delusion.
but i've been thinking: what if it's the opposite? what if the ability to find meaning in small things is not naivety but a form of attention — a practice of showing up to your own life with the same care you'd bring to something you knew was precious?
the people who can't romanticise anything aren't more realistic. they're just not paying attention. or they've decided, at some point, that the ordinary doesn't deserve their attention. that meaning only lives in the big things — the milestones, the moments worth posting.
i want to live in the in-between. in the Tuesday afternoons and the cold coffee and the song that made me feel something i couldn't name. that's where the life actually is.
that's where i am.
@diverse_.writes