“Life is made of a million little pieces.” That’s what Mark read on a random piece of paper that came with his wine delivery. He often overthought everything and had a hard time believing in himself. And this, like many other things, made him wonder “if life is made of million little pieces, what am I doing with mine?”
He was a computer programmer who spent most of his days typing away and debugging code. He sometimes had wine while doing it, especially when he felt lonely. The wine—especially Sirah—gave him a soporific sensation that slowed down the rhythm of his racing thoughts. And since he loved coding so much, he could strangely focus better on the task at hand.
When he was younger, Mark thought that life was made of grand events and one’s life was of importance if one had the right combination of such events. But then he changed his mind.
Yet again he had found himself on a trip abroad, alone. Not necessarily because he disliked company, but because he had no one he liked enough to share his trips. This time, he was in Sicily, renting a countryside home, which happened to have a mandarin field.
“How beautiful,” he said as he stepped on the field to see the sunrise one morning at around 5:30 a.m.
“I used to come here with my husband when we started dating,” said Lady Minerva, the old lady who owned the home and the field. She had appeared out of nowhere, standing next to Mark, watching the sunrise. “We had our first kiss in this field.”
“A-ha!” Mark thought. “A grandiose moment, that’s what makes a great life!”
“Each kiss was sweeter than the previous,” Lady Minerva reminisced.
“Was it really?” Mark asked. “What else happened in this field?”
“Oh, many things,” Lady Minerva said smiling. “Or should I say, many things happened next to it. It’s my husband’s favorite place to have lunch, so there have been many of those right there,” she said pointing in the direction of a portion of the yard that was in-between the kitchen entrance and the mandarin field.
“Sometimes, we would have early dinner on a summer’s day and let the kids play hide and seek among the mandarins. That would always tire them out and get them ready to go to sleep.”
“But tell me about some amazing things that happened in your life,” Mark said impatiently.
“What amazing things? Those ARE the amazing things,” Lady Minerva said. “Haven’t you read all the novels and history books? It’s all in the little details of life. Weddings, births, deaths—those are all special events and they’re honestly a little stressful. Everyone wants to take them in and keep them in photographs, and that’s all nice. But one should take in life’s mundane moments. You should treasure those more than anything. I don’t understand when people gulp wine for instance. They should enjoy every sip of that wine and they won’t want to overindulge.”
“How does she know I drink too much?” Mark wondered, a little embarrassed.
“‘Carpe Diem!’ isn’t that what the poet Horace said? You have to seize the day. Don’t waste your time. Do what really makes you happy and makes you feel like you’re making a difference.”
“But what if most of my moments are boring?”
“Then you must find the inspiration to make those daily little moments glorious because let me tell you a little secret,” Lady Minerva said while signaling to Mark to come closer. He leaned towards her and she whispered, “These ARE the glorious moments. Every moment is grandiose because you’re alive.”
“Now come inside and let’s have cappuccino and pastries for breakfast.”