When friends, co-workers, and acquaintances have asked me how I am for the past month, my response has been, “Okay.” And not because this has been my default answer to this question for as long as I can remember. Genuinely, my life has been neutral. There hasn’t been any exciting news to share, a major goal I’m chasing, or an exciting story to spill. My days have followed the same routine - work and Koa.
Some friends dug deeper into my answer, asking, “What does okay mean?” I had to think about this because I knew I couldn’t just say, “Okay means okay.” I sat for a second and reflected, trying to articulate the feeling of neutrality and how it has manifested in my life.
Floating. I felt like I was floating through life.
I was living in my head, hoping and praying something exciting would come my way to get me out of neutrality. To spin me into a wanderlust of excitement and bliss.
A new car. A new place. A vacation. A night out with friends. A date. An exciting B2C client. A brand deal. Anything that could disrupt my routine and evoke pure feelings of joy again.
I’ve always been high-achieving - working towards a tangible goal, thinking of the next sensible step in my story, and surpassing expectations. This has partly been fueled by proving others wrong by doing what they say I couldn’t. Proving people wrong has always motivated me. But this is the first season of my life that I don’t have a goal guiding my every step, that I’m limiting myself to the dialectics of right and wrong, and that I’m not very interested in others’ expectations of me. It’s a stark difference between this time last year. And while it’s freeing, it made me feel like I was floating in the wanderlust of the “what ifs” that played out in my daydreams.
Telling my friends I felt like I was floating spun me into a state of reflection and introspection. Why did neutrality feel like boredom? Why do I have a negative connotation with boredom? Why was I frustrated with the lack of excitement after praying for peace for months?
That last question. That’s what hit.
For months, I had prayed for peace—no one texting me in a state of crisis. No lies being spread about me or my character. No rumors of what I did and didn’t say. Not having to explain myself, a situation, or my rationale. No being pulled into situations that have nothing to do with me. My life was filled with this in prior months, draining me.
Here it is, the peace I prayed for. But why was I frustrated?
I had to acknowledge that I’m still embracing the slow life - or the “soft life,” as social media has called it.
I am learning that taking things slow and figuring them out as they come to me is okay. I am still learning to thrive in neutrality as someone who has thrived in chaos most of my life. I am learning to embrace peace and working to understand that not everything has to be complicated.
This reflection and introspection began to shift my mindset.
I have always been a lover of the little things. I am not one for big moments or big gestures. Not that I don’t enjoy them or appreciate them. They just don’t generate excitement in me as the little things do.
I’ve been this way since I was little. My fondest childhood memories include the little moments that brought me comfort and joy. I loved the holidays because of the tiny traditions, like driving home from Kentucky Christmas Eve night and watching claymation Christmas movies in our Lincoln Navigator. Or like sitting on my Grandma Doris’ lap and rubbing the soft veins that ran through her hands until I fell asleep. Minor details like the above still move me. The sheer thought of these tiny memories brings me joy, peace, excitement, and wanderlust. And it has dawned on me - neutrality doesn’t equate to lack; excitement and peace are not antitheses.
I can experience and embrace this peaceful season of my life while still creating excitement and wanderlust by enjoying the little things.
It’s the little things in life
That spark the rarest emotions
An aesthetic meal with flavors that dance to create excitement for the next bite
A random lunch date with friends filled with laughter, love, and expressions of hope
A soulful conversation that inspires reflection and introspection
A quick message that says, “I’m thinking of you.”
A rap about how I’ve touched you, your life, and your journey
An audio message acknowledging your raw emotions
A soft hand to rub to ease the anxiety
A comforting tv-show
A plush blanket
A walk in nature to clear your thoughts
Deep breaths that clear your brain
Words that speak to the entanglement of your feelings
Be intentional about the little things
Embracing them
Searching for them
Giving them
Being grateful for them




