Yesterday I woke up, went for a run, ate breakfast, then started my daily routine of work, household chores, and writing. To spice things up, I had lunch with a friend, who gave me a special tour of the hospital where she works. That was the most eventful part of my day. Besides the lunch date, I will probably do the exact same thing tomorrow. It's nothing too remarkable or profound. It's just my ordinary life. Or is it?
In a recent article in The New York Times, Alina Tugend asks the same question. Contemplating the accolades of her own children, the NYT columnist writes,
"I wonder if there is any room for the ordinary any more, for the child or teenager—or adult—who enjoys a pickup basketball game but is far from Olympic material, who will be a good citizen but won't set the world on fire."
She notes that for some "in this world, an ordinary life has become synonymous with a meaningless life." These days, success is measured by the extraordinary rather than the mere faithful ...1