61. I was running late to my meeting, panting up Sixth Avenue during the lunch-hour rush, weaving and bobbing around slowpokes like it was an Olympic sport,** when I crashed into a young woman carrying boxes stacked way above her head . . . that toppled onto mine.
I didn’t say what I was thinking: Why didn’t YOU get out of MY way? (Because I am a self-absorbed, impatient jerk who—sometimes—keeps her mouth shut.)
Which was a good thing: When the woman looked up, she smiled broadly and gave me a hug with her now-free arms. And she told me she loved our makeup and wore it every day.
Wow.
After we un-hugged and I helped her pick up her boxes, I walked the rest of the way to my meeting and savored the moment.
And here we are. Again.
I am a collector—of perfume,*** of photographs, of Teeny Tiny Magic Moments. My collection includes the time when our bareMinerals beauty bus was stopped by the police, and we dodged a ticket by inviting them inside for some fresh Krispy Kremes. And the time we ordered double espresso macchiatos at Starbucks in St. Louis from a gal named Kelly Reinhart, who gave us the best customer service of our lives, so we offered her a job on the spot to work at the bareMinerals boutique, and she took it. And the time I was just about to show a stranger who bumped into me on Sixth Avenue my worst side, and she showed me the best.
I do like to celebrate the big, Monumental Occasions, same as everybody else. But I don’t like to wait for the big ones. Because magic is happening all the time, all around us. And if you make a point of looking out for Magic Moments—and remembering them—you will always have something to celebrate.
* One alternate title for this book.
** See No69, Wired to Win.
*** See No66, Lead Yourself by the Nose.