They're So Cute When They're Little

As much as I love maxims, phrases, chestnuts, proverbs, and other random sound bites of wisdom, there is one that has been bothering me lately:

"Don't sweat the small stuff."

I'm cool not letting all of the little piddly crap in your life get you down; it's generally how I manage to stay sane. However, there is an unintended second meaning to this little goody. I'm sure whoever first uttered it was only coming from a kind and compassionate place, but sometimes bored overthinkers like me have to grab onto something, tear into it, and whip it around like a dog with a new squeaky toy. Again, this keeps me sane.

While it's all well and good to not sweat the small stuff, the side effect is that you give the small stuff hardly any attention at all. The big stuff is what counts; the cataclysms that create the most drastic and instant changes life, but that's not all there is. I think more people would benefit from taking time to celebrate and appreciate the little victories in life.

Case and point: today I helped a young lady work to conquer her crippling fear of heights. She was adamant about staying on the ground, but a little encouragement got her forty feet into the air and ended in her jumping off while being held by a group of her friends on a rope. It was a long and delicate process and my hand is still a little sore from her sqeezong it so tightly, but she made it past the tears and fear and did it. That is really friggin' cool and was big deal to her, and it made me feel good to help create that kind of accomplishment.

But you know what made me feel even better about myself? Two days ago I cleaned all the hair and soap scum and other nasty shit out of my shower drain so that it could drain effectively. I had let it get to the point where I would be showing in a few inches of water, and enough was enough. I ran the water and rooted around with a small handheld declogging apparatus. I was exhuming the occasional soapy clump of my man-pelt, but no improvement in drainage resulted from the exercise. Undeterred, I continued until finally I heard the hollow burp of the drain releasing its prey. The water exited as if I had blown a hole in the bottom of the tub with a shotgun. I felt like a god. I couldn't help but chastise the drain out loud for thinking that it could match wits with the like of me. Punk-ass drain!

Now some might argue that I am making mountains out of molehills, and I say, "sure, why not?" While it is certainly acceptable, nay, encouraged to savor the great sources of joy in our lives, it shouldn't be our sole focus. Why not take a measure of exhuberance in the mundane and the everyday. Enjoy the fact that you did the dishes today rather than letting them pile up and making a much bigger job. Call a person who you think you might take for granted and thank them for being a part of your life. The Grand Canyon was made by wind and water, not an earthquake.