finding ways to make the mundane moments a little more inspired, seems to make all of life better. take it from these mailbox pretties.
Back in the days of nap times + sleepless nights, i learned to find joy in the small moments of each day– like waiting on the mail to arrive. while staying at home in our small townhouse with just one child, I learned to measure the days by their rituals. sure as the sunrise + the sunset, the mailman would come + go with his deliveries. with a sudden “thunk” i knew, sometimes before the dog could bark, that the mailman had been by.
we had a mailbox which was not much larger than a shoebox to catch our few pieces of correspondence + the occasional greeting card. it was posted next to the front door at our townhouse, a plain black rectangle with a faded fleur-de-lis accent adorning the center. it was lovely in its own, simple way. before the sound of our friendly neighborhood courier’s daily delivery, there would be sleepy snuggles + cozy coffee time on the couch, morning snack, a bit of play time + morning nap. sometime after that + usually before the baby woke up, our faithful postal worker would make his daily delivery. after the post dropped, nap time would soon end, to be followed by our daily snack. it was rhythms like these that helped me learn the pace of our “new normal”.
in the days before we had a front porch to call our own, we had begun leaning into the habit of opening the door in the morning, setting up the baby gate + leaving it there for most of the day. my baby girl + her sweet doggie, loved to look, listen + learn about the world outside their door day in + day out. rain or shine, those two + oftentimes, all three of us would have all sorts of conversations about what we saw + heard: a rare cool spring morning, a visiting grandparent, an uncle or godmother popping by, a cousin playing basketball across the well known cut-through street; the day it rained so much, ducks came paddling right up to the front stoop as we tossed bread crumbs to appease their querying quacks. in the morning, we’d wave bye bye to dada + when he’d come home we’d start waving, or in the dog’s case wailing, again. as sure as ryan would go, he’d come back to us through that same wide open door that taught us so much about life.
now, leaving the door open quite likely made things interesting for our kind + timely mailman, because he wasn’t too keen on catching up with the dog on the other side. that pup barked at every sound he heard, even more so after the baby joined his pack. most days he’d be found out in the backyard asleep in the sun, by the time our mail would arrive. looking back, our mail carrier in fact, might have not liked those days much at all, but as we got used to seeing his face + saying hello, he became a reliable part of our day + i’d like to think our grateful, smiling faces might have helped him through his too. there’s a lot to be said for all of life’s seemingly small constants.
looking back, those days are some of the most tender memories because it really was so wonderful a thing to leave the door wide open + it truly made an impact on us over the course of that chapter of our lives.
a second child, an out-of-state move + two houses later, walking to the mailbox is still one of my favorite things to do on an ordinary tuesday. it’s one of those routine things that i realize may go unnoticed to many. for me, it’s often a bright spot in my day + not just because I think they’ll be anything waiting in the box with my name on it. just as porches + pillowfights suggests, it’s one of those opportunities that help reframe perspective. stepping outside + walking into the bright sun of midday, does more than offer a change of physical feeling or view, but it presents a fresh mindset as well. it’s the warmth felt in the stroll down the front path, soft cypress chips beneath my feet. it’s the sight of pollinators in rush hour, a busy, blurry humming that summons a smile from deep down to light up my face. it’s the smell of jasmine in bloom. there are few replacements for what being outside on a beautiful day does for a person’s wellbeing.
What you do makes a difference + you have to decide what kind of difference you want to make.
jane goodall
the moment we first walked through our home in the peach state, the flowers that surround our mailbox here in georgia caught my attention. they are the lush, star jasmine vine + although the yellow jasmine is the state flower of south carolina this white, fragrant jasmine is ubiquitous in my hometown of charleston. in spring, you can’t walk far without catching a trace of that lemony-sweet scent wafting nearby; it’s among the familiar smells of home. it can often be found nearby my favorite beach there, so the nostalgia it brings with its meandering tendrils is perhaps the most I have for any flowering plant.
these breathtaking images depict the stunning beauty of jasmine season around charleston; all images shared with permission via the talented photographer, hannah alyssa
as we placed an offer on that house which is now our home, i couldn’t help but feel that it was meant to be. since then, i have spent many a walk to the mailbox pondering what luck it was to have this God wink reminder of home. here’s the thing, when something in nature brings you a smile, maybe you should pay more attention to it. the next time you see a plant, a tree, a shrub, a flower that makes you do a double-take, maybe consider planting some beside your mailbox or in another happy corner of your home + wait to see what joy it will bring to every day + in turn, your life!
if this sounds like something you’d like to incorporate into your daily living, but you’re unsure where to start please, let us know— it would be our honor to bring more happiness into your everyday life!
porches + pillowfights 