I don't read poetry often, but there are a few poems I come back to regularly because of their impact on my life.

This beautiful piece by ​William Martin​ is on that list:

Do not ask your children
to strive for extraordinary lives.
Such striving may be admirable,
but it is the way of foolishness.
Help them instead to find the wonder
and the marvel of an ordinary life.
Show them the joy of tasting
tomatoes, apples, and pears.
Show them how to cry
when pets and people die.
Show them the infinite pleasure
in the touch of a hand.
And make the ordinary come alive for them.
The extraordinary will take care of itself.

The final two lines bear repeating:

And make the ordinary come alive for them. The extraordinary will take care of itself.

How often have you been convinced that your joy, contentment, and fulfillment were on the other side of some extraordinary achievement?

• I'll be content when I get that promotion.
• I'll be fulfilled when I make director.
• I'll be joyful when I find a partner.

This "when, then" psychology traps our happiness in a conditional statement:

You get to be happy when you achieve that thing.

In a culture that obsesses over the extraordinary, there's much to be gained through simply shifting your focus to celebrate the ordinary.

How can you make the ordinary come alive today?

Every single thing you do today is something your 90-year-old self will wish they could go back and do.

That simple walk. That feeling of satisfaction when you figure out a tricky problem. That smile from a friend. That laugh from your child. That workout you wanted to skip. That conversation with your parents.

That ordinary moment you're tempted to ignore.

All of it.

So, the next time you find yourself wanting to skip through to the other side—to the end, the goal, the finish line:

Stop. Pause. And breathe it in.

This is it. This is real. This is life.

Make the ordinary come alive and the extraordinary will take care of itself.