Way back in the last century, in the 1990s, a series of small books came out about not sweating the small stuff. Self-help junkie that I was at the time, I soon added them to my personal library. I tended to be a worry wart, especially about my young children and unstable finances. That isn’t small stuff, of course, but those worries were just the tip of my anxiety iceberg. I worried about school and work and what to make for dinner. I was easily preoccupied with the details of daily life, often trivial, and details about my future life, usually unpredictable. Where did all that worry get me? I’d say that 90% of the time, it got me nowhere.
I still fall into this trap at times, but embracing minimalism and growing older have given me a better perspective about the futility of sweating the small stuff (too much). Although I had skipped the phase of acquiring a lot of possessions (house, car, and more) that many of my peers had gone through in their 20s and 30s, by the time I reached my 50s, my financial life had stabilized and sure enough, I had a house, car, and more. Did I stop sweating the small stuff? Sometimes, but raising teenagers and saving for their education often kept me sweating. However, I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. I started dreaming about downsizing and simplifying my life someday. The turning point came with a house fire.
People who have gone through a catastrophic event know that it changes them for life. It doesn’t matter how long ago my house fire was (ca. 8 years as I write), the smell of smoke and the sound of sirens still give me a moment’s pause. Yet there is almost always a silver lining in going through hard times. The desire to simplify in the future became my life in the present as I struggled to rebuild my home. My gratitude for the small stuff (family photos, favorite books) surviving the fire outweighed my worries about the big stuff (furniture, electronics, appliances) that did not.
We may read about the importance of gratitude and mindfulness, staying in the present and experiencing life’s small moments, but we also know that’s easier said than done. I kept a gratitude journal for about half a year, but eventually, my entries became repetitious and less, well, gratifying, so I stopped. Yet I continue to practice gratitude throughout the day. I take a moment to enjoy the blossoming of a new flower, a beautiful sunny day, a delicious meal. I appreciate time spent with a friend or a phone call with my children. I’ve created areas in my home that bring me a sense of joy and serenity. It doesn’t take much—flowers in a vase, a stack of books, a thriving houseplant, a beautiful teacup. Do I still worry and obsess about life? Sometimes. But taking a moment to enjoy the small stuff every day brings a balance and perspective to my life. It takes minimal effort but the benefits are huge.
RESOURCES
Carlson, Richard Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff
Carver, Courtney Simple Ways to Be More with Less
Soulful Simplicity: How Living with Less Can Lead to So Much More
Dietz, Shoshanah After the Fire: Rebuilding House and Life after a Fire
St. James, Elaine Living the Simple Life: A Guide to Scaling Down and Enjoying More
Simplify Your Life: 100 Ways to Slow Down and Enjoy the Things That Really Matter
Inner Simplicity: 100 Ways to Regain Peace and Nourish Your Soul
For more resources, go to this page: Resources
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My Minimalist “Don’t” List: 10 Things I Don’t Do Anymore
A Few Side Effects of Minimalism
Gaining Perspective: Friendship
Beautiful, and so true.
Thanks, Suzanne!
I remember those books. Read a few of them myself. My clients and I used to write 5 things we are grateful for everyday. After awhile it felt stale for us too. So, we started mixing things up, taking pictures of beautiful things, looking for heart shapes, and celebrating magical moments.
Now, years later, I have returned to writing gratitude as I close out my daily journal entries. I realized that when I write more descriptively about what I am thankful for, maybe even a paragraph, I connect with it more deeply. My gratitude journal is no longer a list, but an ongoing essay of what I appreciate in my life. And, at the end of each post I write, “Thank you. More please.”
I like the idea of an ongoing essay instead of a list!