Small things, lovingly done

Who says we have to do great things?

I’ve always wanted to do great things, I’ll admit. If I’m honest, I’ve spent a fair amount of my life letting fixations about lasting legacy and large impact steer my decisions. Though, of course, I’d never admit that because that would be letting the reality of my enormous ego out to play where everyone could witness it.

Oops. Done it now.

Photo by Jernej Graj on Unsplash

Despite my backhanded attempts to do big things, however, the reality is that my impact on the world so far has been average human-sized. As in, I’ve managed to positively impact my children, other people that love me, and maybe some small pockets of my community. I’ve also left a bad taste in the mouth of a few, which I regret in some cases and not in others. You can’t be everyone’s cup of tea, and I’ve been more of a bitter cup of black coffee at times. Occasionally, it’s true that I hear from folks I know less well or not at all that they’ve been moved by something I’ve written or done, which is surprising (and fills me with delight) every time.

Still, I’m sitting here at 52 years old and realizing, y’know, I don’t think fame and fortune are waiting with bated breath to knock on my door. And maybe that’s not a bad thing.

Author David James Duncan wrote, “Great things tend to be undoable things. Whereas small things, lovingly done, are always within our reach.” I’m not sure I agree entirely. Obviously, there are those remarkable few who do great (big) impactful things in this world, some of which are life-enhancing and some of which are decidedly not. Most of us, however, have a potential sphere of influence that is much, much smaller, yet no less essential to the daily operation of the world.

I suspect at this particular time in history, when the pace of life, the dissemination of information, and the expansion of technologies have vastly outpaced our evolutionarily-evolved capacities to process it all, it’s useful to remember this. And to meditate on how to manage the influence we realistically have with integrity. Because, though there may come times when our integrity is sorely tested and the decisions we make have wider impact, our lives are built nearly exclusively of small, seemingly inconsequential moments.

I’m not suggesting this means that everything is do or die. That we can’t afford to make mistakes or change course. That there is no such thing as a redemption arc. I’m a huge fan of weird, little, DIY, hand-built houses. Trust me, the wonkiest of buildings can be beautiful and keep the rain out, even if it looks like a mad committee of rabid raccoons did the construction. Consider me a cobbled together, rabid raccoon, trash heap of a house with less and less shame about it.

What I am suggesting, though, is that it’s worth making “small things, lovingly done” our primary mantra when practicing our integrity on the daily. Did I speak honestly and kindly to people today? Consider my values when spending my money? Follow through on my commitments? Say I was sorry when I transgressed and thank you when I was assisted? Take responsibility for my emotional state? Offer myself compassion?

These are just some of the big questions I ask myself, but when repetitively considered and finitely focused I can build a whole life out of them. A beautiful, wonky, meaningful life, which, when added to the imperfect, earnestly built lives of others, builds a gorgeous, improbable, rabid raccoon house of a world. That’s the world I want to live in. How about you?

What questions are you asking to build your life?