Going into the Carleton Bookstore, my eyes quickly scanned the cashier area to see if the old man I see running in the tunnels every morning had a shift that day. Luckily for me, he did.
After helping me look for the textbook I wanted to purchase, he said, “They’re small, not bigger than my thumbnail but you won’t miss them!” he continued, “Once you find one, you will see all the others.” You see, he had been planting little heart-shaped stickers in the tunnels for some time now.
A week passed by and I was still looking for them. Aimlessly, naively, tirelessly… I walked with my head up, looking closely at every inch of the murals of the Carleton underground tunnels on my way to the gym at 5:45 am. Day after day though, the walls seemed to be closing in on me. It felt like a lost cause.
Hidden in plain sight, these red little heart stickers that the man at the bookstore told me about were scattered all over campus in the tunnels. It was too late to back out, I was now emotionally invested in finding them. Yet, I couldn’t seem to pinpoint not even one of the heart stickers in the tunnels.
My morning trips to the gym were once joyful. Accompanied by Afrobeat or slow and calming R&B, I danced my way there. Slowly, the same trip started to feel draining. An unshakable feeling of disappointment seemed to be residing in me. I was frustrated with myself for not being able to find these ‘little stupid stickers’ as I once called them.
The lamps, the walls, the posts. I looked everywhere and anywhere I could lay my eyes on. It felt like a lifelong treasure hunt. I went from feeling hopeless to silly. They were just ‘little stupid stickers’ after all… right?
In hindsight, they were not just ‘little stupid stickers.’ Unconsciously, I associated these red heart-shaped stickers with my ability to find joy during hard times. I now understand why I felt so frustrated by this seemingly insignificant situation.
From a young age, I have always had another pair of eyes for the good stuff in life. Almost like I owned pink-tinted heart-shaped glasses. In my world, the thickest and most violent of clouds always had a silver lining hidden somewhere, anywhere. In that same world, yin and yang lived in perfect harmony as one was essential to the existence of the other.
When I wasn’t able to find those heart stickers on the mundane walls of the tunnels, I felt like I lost my pink-tinted heart-shaped glasses. The warmth and love of life that used to come to me so naturally felt forced, involuntary, and compulsory to a rule of law that did not govern me.
In this new world underground, the thickest and most violent of clouds were nothing more than thick and violent clouds in their nature. In this new world, my yin lost her yang, erased in turbulence that a silver lining cannot brighten. La vie was not so rose anymore.
It always amazed me how the smallest things in life often sit right in front of us, never to be seen, appreciated… never to be loved. Until one day I did, see, appreciate and love.
After I found one of the heart stickers, the others seemed to naturally fall into the palms of my gaze. Just like that, the ‘little stupid stickers’ were not so stupid anymore. I smiled.
At that moment, I realized the overwhelming abundance of love and joy as one sticker unfolded itself after the other.
To this day, I am unsure of the exact moment when I saw the first heart sticker in the tunnels but the sense of relief and joy I felt afterwards, I couldn’t forget even if I tried.