The distinct pleasure of unsought moments

Plans dominate so much of my life that I've come to appreciate more those little moments that happen on their own, unbidden and unsought. 

Scanning the latest offering email from Amazon is fine, and it's great to be able to order the books and music and other items we know we want, but I still love encountering a new and enticing book on a store's shelf, or hearing a song for the first time in a music store and needing to know who was performing it. 

Being able to listen to any song at any time is wonderful, but so, too, is sitting in the car in the garage or in your job's parking lot as a song finishes on the radio. 

Encountering a friend at a movie and grabbing something to eat afterward, or even just chatting about what you both saw, is a special sort of treat.

A year ago right now, I was on sabbatical.  On April 7, 2013, I was spending my last night of the trip in Florence, a city I deeply love.  (For more on that day, go here.)  I built that entire trip on a plan-less foundation, a dedication to the goal of awakening each day with virtually no plan in mind.  I loved it, and I miss that time.  I've realized, though, that I can find a great deal of unplanned joy in everyday life, if I but open myself to it.  I hope to do a better job of that in the years ahead.