A couple of days ago, my friend and I attended the Notre Dame women’s soccer game against Louisville. We arrived late and, upon entry, gazed upon a sea of Irish fans, all clad in their best “Irish Wear Green” outfits, filling Alumni Stadium. Seats were few and far between, so we hurried alongside the stadium to find an open spot. My friend pointed out an area, and we sat.
With the game underway, I shifted my focus to the field — seeing if I could make up for my missed time. My friend, however, did not. She turned to the side and struck up a conversation with a mother behind us, who was cradling a newborn baby. This mother and her baby were accompanied by her husband and a brilliant five-year-old who stole my attention for most of the game. When deciding to attend this match, I did not expect to spend the majority of my evening conversing with a kindergartener. But it happened. We picked a seat, and suddenly, we were immersed in the world of this burgeoning family.
After the game, when recounting our conversations with the mother and her two children (although the infant did not have much to say), I was preoccupied with the circumstances that had led us to that conversation. We simply sat somewhere. The idea that something that small, scurrying to an open seat, reminded me of how the most unremarkable moments often lead to the most meaningful ones.
A few weeks ago, a close friend of mine shared an article with me titled, “In Defense of Thinking Small.” This article detailed the obsession with “grand ideas” that often override the potential of the “small stuff.” Given our nature as students at one of the most prestigious and selective schools in the United States, this behavioral deposition comes naturally to us. We are conditioned to think big. Our quiet peer competition only reinforces this habit — we need to prove ourselves to the world around us. In this process, we overlook what is most influential in our lives: the small and unassuming moments that shape who we are.
What are these small moments? For me, it was finding a good spot to sit for a soccer game. In this space, I found myself in the breadth of laughter, wit and perspectives I was previously unaware of. This was not a life-changing experience, but rather a moment, combined with others, that shape who I am and what I believe.
Small moments exist everywhere, and their impact can be surprisingly profound. I often wonder how many of my closest relationships began with a chance encounter, a small decision or a fleeting conversation. This butterfly effect can be scaled to every aspect of life. These small moments are marbled throughout our lives — sometimes hidden, sometimes glaringly apparent — but they are the glue that holds us together.
In defense of the little things — the small, passing moments — I urge us to look out for them. I understand the necessity of grandeur and monumentality. Our increasingly competitive environment coerces us to focus on the next big thing. The next exam. The next presentation. The next interview. Inarguably, these moments are essential. We feel the weight they carry and the full luminosity of the expectations placed upon us. However, at the end of the day, I don’t think we will consider these moments as what made us who we are.
The circumstances in which I met the friendly mother and her two wonderful children at a soccer game are far from novel. Every day, small moments like this are happening all around us, waiting to be noticed. Don’t shy away from them. Be open to the small talk in an elevator, the occasional smile-and-chat with the classmate who sits next to you and the random late-night conversations in dorm hallways. Even if these instances are overshadowed by the “big” moment, they write themselves into the pages of our lives. Don’t forget them. They are what complete our story.
Naasei is a junior from Portland, Oregon living in the Coyle Community in Zahm Hall. When not burdened with overwhelming political science coursework, he enjoys photography and baking. He can be reached at wlynn@nd.edu.
