Finding the Magic in Seemingly Ordinary Moments

I’ve been thinking about the concept of ordinary versus extraordinary and was speaking with a friend, Doug. This idea/concept came up in conversation and I remember a quote from The Peaceful Warrior, by Dan Millman (actually, I had to look it up while we were talking). Dan Millman wrote, “There are no ordinary moments,” and that line has always stuck with me. It’s one of those quotes that feels simple on the surface but unfolds into something much more profound when you sit with it for a while.

Think about it… we go through our days interacting with people, checking things off our to-do lists, eating meals, listening to music, commuting, talking, and scrolling. Most of these things don’t stand out in the moment. But when you look back, some of those little things carry a weight you didn’t expect. They linger. They spark something inside you. And maybe they were never as “ordinary” as we thought. They could be good. They could be bad. You might not even ‘pick a side’ when it happens.

Yesterday, I was testing out a new pair of headphones I bought. Now, I wasn’t expecting anything revolutionary – just better sound quality, some noise canceling and mainly a replacement for my headphones that died. But I noticed something unexpected. When I sat still and faced forward, the music played perfectly balanced in both ears. That’s what you’d expect, right?

But here’s the cool part: when I turned my head to one side, the sound didn’t shift with me. It stayed anchored in front of me as if the music was coming from a live source in the room. I could hear more of it in one ear than the other, and it created this weirdly immersive, almost 3D effect. It genuinely surprised me and it made me smile. This little tech feature totally elevated a routine moment into something a little magical.

Going back to the conversation with Doug – It wasn’t about the headphones, though. It was about noticing. In this case, it was something new. ANd often, this can also happen with something that is mundane (the actual word I used) or routine. It is about being fully present long enough to catch the subtle detail. That’s what made it special. Not because the moment was inherently rare, but because I paid attention to it.

And that got me thinking: how many of those moments are passing me by because I’m too distracted or rushed to see them?

So here’s something I want to share with you – an idea worth trying today (or tomorrow if today’s already running away from you). It’s simple and powerful:

Pick a moment from your day and really sit with it.

Here’s how:

1. Recall a recent interaction that felt good. Maybe you had a great conversation with someone you care about. Or your morning coffee tasted just right. Or a stranger held the door and smiled. Doesn’t have to be grand – it just has to be meaningful to you.
2. Revisit it with intention. Close your eyes for a minute and replay it. What did it feel like? What surprised you? What small detail brought you joy? Get specific – what were you wearing, what did it smell like, what did the other person say?
3. Share it. Tell someone else about that moment. Share it over lunch, write it in your journal, or heck, post it online if you’re so inclined. Speaking it out loud (or writing it down) cements it in a different way. It becomes more real. More lasting.

What you’ll likely find is this: the more you do this, the more you’ll start to notice that extraordinary doesn’t mean “rare” or “once-in-a-lifetime.” It just means you noticed. You were present. You paid attention long enough to really see the moment for what it was.

We don’t have to chase big experiences all the time to find meaning or joy. Sometimes, it’s in the background music. Sometimes, it’s in how someone says your name. Sometimes, it’s in turning your head and realizing the song didn’t follow.

There’s a kind of quiet magic in everyday life but only if we choose to look for it.

So the challenge (if you’re up for it) is this:
Catch one of those moments today. Be present for it. And let yourself feel the full weight of its beauty.

You might just realize there’s no such thing as “just another day.” (Sorry, Paul McCartney! And Jon Secada!)