Blueberry pancakes make me happy. Blueberry pancakes from Denny’s at midnight make me even happier. There is something magical about them. Creamy butter and sticky, sweet, syrup perfectly complementing the easy conversation being traded lightly across the table. Conversation is always easy over blueberry pancakes. You find yourself divulging some of your innermost fears over those simple disks made of flour, sugar, and fruit; the words slipping off your tongue as easily as the description of your favorite color.

Blueberry pancakes remind you of the happy times. They are an enjoyable kind of easy, like waking up early on a hot summertime morning. They are not pretentious like crepes, or heavy like French toast. They are perfect for good moods, or the perfect remedy for sad ones.

As time goes on, the responsibilities multiply and life inevitably becomes more complicated because you have more to care about. More to lose. It is important to have things like blueberry pancakes, simple pleasures that bring you happiness just in being themselves and nothing more. The small things that allow you to be present and fully appreciate the exact moment you are experiencing, drinking it in like a deep breath of cool ocean air. That moment, in its entirety, is enough. When time disappears and nothing matters except for the person sitting across from you and the perfectly made breakfast in front of you, where bedtimes are a thing to be brushed off like an annoying Nat buzzing in your ear.

Nothing invites trepidation into my soul like the fear of mediocrity. This is a dangerous fear to have, because then it becomes possible to become addicted to chaos. Appreciating the small pleasures, like breakfast at midnight, makes the commonplace seem desirable and startlingly fleeting. You have to hold on to those moments while simultaneously trying not to grasp at them too desperately, for it is that desperation which will make them disappear all the more quickly.

A point of growth comes when in realizing that these small moments of simple yet complete joy are not mediocre ones. Your existence is not merely a serious of unremarkable moments strung together, sprinkled with bright snapshots of happiness or tragedy. Life has a purpose. The small moments can turn out to be everything; they build strength, appreciation, and depth of character. These moments, the blueberry pancake moments, are when you realize that this right here is why life is worth sticking around for.

A handful of months and a few thousand dreams ago, I didn’t even know I loved blueberry pancakes. I had never sought them out, nor had I given them a second thought when browsing the breakfast menu selections. Then, one day, this ordinary breakfast item had transformed. It was now unique and special and just a little bit mine. That is how all miracles in life happen. Suddenly. Magically. Without warning. Then, your life is irreversibly altered. The trick is being patient enough to hang on, to wait for the miracles to happen.