You arrive at a stately home in flurries of snow…
Inside, a crowd of revelers in costumes and masks — as fancy as anything you could hope to see. Glitter, wigs, elaborate coats and dresses from bygone ages surround you at every turn.
A sword fight erupts as you approach the sweeping double marble staircase.
You pass through unscathed to dinner in a grand hall. The roof towering several stories above.
Amazing food presented on crazy plates. Some of the most intricate table decorations turn out to be crafted from chocolate. A hammer is presented so that you can smash them into bite-sized pieces.
And then, as the night continues to unfold…
Acrobats. Musicians. Dancers.
A gigantic fairy-tale hare (a puppet so large that it the two puppeteers are actually inside it).
Mysteries, riddles, and treasure hunts. Through opulent rooms and corridors crammed with incredible architecture and valuable paintings.
And the whole experience full of amazing old friends and elegant new acquaintances.
That was my Saturday night a couple of months ago. And probably the highlight of my year.
The exclusive Raven’s Ball — masterminded by my friend, Zoe. (I’m already looking forward to the next one in around two and a half years time…)
As I tumble back outside at around 2am I’m still buzzing with the magic.
I walk home through the streets of Edinburgh in my Louis Quatorze-esque outfit. Attracting an equal mix of admiring glances and confused looks.
Collapse into bed, tired but happy. And…
Wake in the morning and get immediately to work defrosting the freezer.
That’s coming down to earth with a bump.
But you know what?
Despite the drudgery and anti-climax… It felt pretty good too.
Having an amazing time at a magical ‘once in a lifetime’ ball. That sort of thing is good for us humans.
Getting the tedious but necessary everyday tasks done. Also good for us humans.
So as I remarked on the crazy contrast between the morning after and the night before…
It occurred to me that this extreme example really helped crystalise something that applies just as well to life’s more gentle ups and downs.
You need both. They feed different parts of your life.
You can be… You must be both big and small at the same time.
And celebrate all of it.
Savour the special occasions. The landmark personal triumphs. The thousand random magical moments that life unexpectedly throws your way.
But get straight back to the boring and ‘worthy’ everyday work afterwards. The same old same old. Treasure that too.