Why is living so big? These are the reasons.

We moved into our new apartment on the fourth floor of a building with no elevator, on the hottest day of June. Two hours in, my husband and I were drenched in sweat, and we had barely moved a third of our boxes.

For my son's sixth birthday party, I bought a giant piñata shaped like a donkey. I filled it with candy, hung it from the oak tree in our backyard and handed the first kid a stick.

My grandmother has played bingo at the church hall every Tuesday night for thirty-five years. This spring, after I moved back to town, she invited me along. "Bring a dauber," she said, as if I knew what that was.

I took ballet as a little girl for exactly one year, and then quit because I was embarrassed. At fifty, I saw a flyer for an adult beginner tap class at the community center and signed up before I could talk myself out of it.

On the first warm, rainy night of spring, the toads in our valley all wake up at once and walk to the pond to lay their eggs. The problem is that a two-lane road runs between their woods and their pond.

Every Saturday my father made pancakes shaped like the first letter of our names. Mine was always an M that looked more like a sleepy W. He never fixed it, and I never asked him to.

We found out in February that we were having a baby. We decided not to learn whether it was a boy or a girl. So in March, we painted the nursery yellow, the color of butter and morning sun.

My grandfather left a small village in Calabria, in southern Italy, when he was sixteen, and never went back. He talked about it my whole childhood: the olive trees, the church bells, the view of the sea from his mother's kitchen.

My granddaughter's fourth-grade class buried a time capsule this February, to be opened in twenty-five years. Her teacher invited grandparents to come and help.

This is why the chicken has crossed the road. Now we know.

I can play exactly four chords on the guitar. For my husband's fortieth birthday in February, I decided to write him a song anyway.

So, this evening was a typical night at work, when this individual came in and made my day! I do believe it was Chris who came in and a very simple compliment on the store made such a difference. I had no idea who he was, but he handed me this bracelet, that read "living is so big" and said as a token of his appreciation he wanted me to have it! I said thank you so much, and told him about my gold bracelet that broke last week that I wore on that wrist. Well I got home and decided to google "life is so big", I never would have believed what I was watching, and reading. What an amazing thing. So I just want to thank YOU Chris, for making a huge difference in my life. And from the bottom of my heart, I appreciate you. I will not take this bracelet off and I will share your story with everyone! Still smiling :). Mandy from CVS.

My friend dragged me to a square dance at the old Grange hall on a cold Saturday night in January. I said I didn't dance. She said, "Nobody here dances. We just follow directions."

Jesus Agudo teaching students of Boston University various formulas and concepts such as, "The Eight Living Realizations." This was April of 2014.

In January, when the days are short and gray, I signed up for a steel pan class at the community center. I wanted something that sounded like sunshine.

This picture is self-explanatory. Living Is So BIG!

Share a rock with someone you care about. Let them know you care by giving them a "Living Is So Big" rock. Click the picture and it will take you to the online store in which you can purchase your very own Living Is So Big rock.

Living Is So Big Video made in March of 2014!
Click the picture to go to the video and see what message it is trying to portray.

Living Is So Big Wristband with the river scenery.
How peaceful is that? Very.