Small Stuff

One of my personal weaknesses is complacency. I enjoy coasting too much, I often procrastinate, and I often choose not to care about things that should be important.

This weakness can sometimes be a strength. For example, I can be completely chill about my house being a mess because I actively choose not to be bothered. I relax and embrace the inner lazy, which can save me from my own anxieties.

But sometimes I can take the "don't sweat the small stuff" attitude too far. Sometimes, it's important to care. And sometimes it's even important to force yourself to care when you don't want to.
There comes a point when you have to choose between making yourself better or just keeping on keeping on.

Ten wasted minutes is a small thing. If I said to you, "I wasted ten minutes today," you'd shrug and say, "So what?"

If I waste ten minutes every day, that's sixty wasted hours in a year. Sixty hours. Enough time to make a quilt. Read three or four books. Volunteer for a weekend. Workout every day for two months. Bake 30 loaves of bread.

Suddenly, the small stuff turns into big stuff. How much small stuff am I going to shrug off before I realize that caring enough about it will actually make a big difference in my life?

How much do you lose when you do nine burpees instead of ten? One burpee is barely anything. You might not notice a difference by stopping at nine thinking, "Well, that was good enough."

Over time, the gap widens between those who do nine and those who do ten. One person remains good enough, and the other becomes excellent.

Life is rarely determined by one major choice. Instead, it's defined by the small choices you make for yourself every day. Start to see those choices in the scope of what they build. See the forest instead of just seeing the singular trees. Books are made of small words. Paintings are made with single brushstrokes. Castles are built with small bricks.

Eat the elephant. Care about the small stuff, because big stuff is made out of small stuff.