When I was a girl, I spent hours collecting shells on the New England beaches where we spent our summers. Sometimes I picked up a big conch or quahog shell but mostly, I liked the little ones. I loved to squat over a pile of the tiniest shells on the beach, some so small and delicate that the only way to pick them up was to lick my finger so they would stick.
The world feels too big to me sometimes. Too much, too fast, too gut wrenching. Sometimes, my best strategy is to squat down, look closely at and appreciate the smallest thing I can see.
Not a flower, but a petal.
Not a bird, but a feather.
Not my hand but the wrinkles on my hand.
I had a therapist who, true to his Buddhist roots, would tell me to give painful things a wide pasture. To give those things that caused me suffering more space, more context.
This wise and helpful counsel to get me centered and more spacious when my little boat is swamped. And if I'm still staggering and overwhelmed, it can also help me to go small, to focus in.
Sometimes, when the world gets just to world-y, my best strategy is to pause and do the smallest thing I can do.
We learn from James Clear (Atomic Habits author) and BJ Fogg (Tiny Habits author) that the best way to do anything consistently is little by little.
Whether we want to do things to support our health, our relationships or our democracy, the approach is the same. Small acts, done consistently make the biggest impact.
In your body, small acts matter. Drink a big glass of water in the morning. Stretch between tasks at your desk and do some strength moves between chores. Eat some veggies before your meal. Then do those things again. It's the small things done regularly that add up.
In your relationships, small acts matter. Offer your full attention. Tell the truth faster. Apologize without "it's just that..." at the end. Then do those things again. It's the small things done regularly that add up.
In an election, small acts matter. Write a check to a cause or a candidate you care about. Volunteer to make calls or write postcards or knock doors. Invite a friend to join you. Post about what you're doing on social media. Then do those things again. It's the small things done regularly that add up.
Somehow, the tighter in I focus, the more I grounded I am. The smaller I look for wonder, the more space I have in my heart. The small contribution I offer repeatedly pays compounded interest.
What is the smallest thing you can notice? What is the smallest thing you can be grateful for? What is the smallest thing you can do to move the world in the direction you want it to go?
RESOURCE NOTE:
In preparation for writing this post (and the September/October classes that I’m teaching on this theme —want to join us? Sign up here!), I read the book Look Again: The Power of Noticing What Was Already There by Tali Sharot and Cass R. Sunstein.
I thought the book was going to be about how we overlook the everyday things that are around us and by paying attention to them, we can enrich our lives.
While it was about that in some ways, mostly it is about our brain’s strategy to habituate which conserves energy — and how energizing dishabituation can be. The authors, for example, show how travel, or other exposure to different cultures, beliefs, norms and values dishabituates us so we can see our own experience more clearly and discern what would improve it. Dishabituation, as the authors argue, resparkles life.
So while the book wasn’t exactly what I expected and I learned other approaches to resparkling!