What Was the Last Thing That Made You Smile?

I read the flyer, taped neatly on the mirror in the bathroom. It had been put up (supposedly) by an on-campus psychology research group. A QR code and an email address were printed on the bottom left corner—for those who wanted to participate in their study (I'm assuming).

I didn't think much of its bolded message. I washed my hands and dried them with a paper towel on my way out.

I sat down and opened my laptop. I was working in my university's most beloved coffee shop, located just by the main entrance of the math (my department) and physics building. After a pause, I wrote a little note to myself on my browser home screen.

"What was the last thing that made you smile?"

I think I'd smiled at the coffee shop barista when she handed me my drink.

Does that count? It was a courtesy smile, in conjunction with a "thank you!" Yeah, that should count. A smile's a smile.

How about... before then? Oh, my professor had ended the lecture with some photos of his pet axolotl; I'd smiled then. Actually, I'd laughed.

I opened a new tab to start working on my problem set, now smiling (just slightly) as I recalled the cheesy axolotl photos. His axolotl's name was Kimchi (though she looked nothing like her namesake, she was still very cute).

I can't remember why I wrote it down. It wasn't a very compelling flyer; it was plain black and white. The QR code was its most decorative attribute.

But it didn't matter why, because I did. I saw the flyer's message everyday, anytime I opened my computer, it was right there.

It wasn't a very hard question—at least not to me. I smiled often, by habit. I think I got it from my mom, but I can't be sure. Every time I read it, I would always have an answer; it was usually just something trivial that I wouldn't usually offer a second thought. Regardless, I could glance at the little message on my home screen and I would get to smile at that trivial moment for a second time.

As simple as the question was, it allowed me to relive recent memories and, more importantly, I was learning to cherish them. Sure, not every moment was the most impactful or necessarily life-changing, but if I had smiled, there must have been some part of it which made me a little happier. Honestly, as an undergraduate math student, I could use all the joy I could get.

I started to use the question a bit more as time went on; in times of more stress, fear, or anxiety, I would sit back and think of all the things that made me smile, and there would be so many, that they would serve as a reminder that there'll be more. So... it'll be okay.

I'm not really sure why I'm sharing this. As romantically as I write about it, it wasn't just some life-changing motto; it's most certainly not the secret to eternal and unlimited happiness.

That's not really what everyone needs though. We spend so much of our time worrying about the big issues—the future, the meaning of life, long-lasting relationships. And we're always looking for quick fix-all solutions, too. I think, because of that, we forget that even brief moments and minor interactions can be just as meaningful, even if they don't play into our 20-year plans.

Celebrate the little victories, and take note of things, even if they don't seem all that important.

That's what the flyer in the bathroom taught me. I wonder if it's still there. I wonder what kind of study that research group is doing.

What was the last thing that made you smile?

Today, I had some really good pasta.

:)