Little Things Mean a Lot

It’s been almost a year since I began this blog. I had every intention of being more “regular” with my publications. Like everything else in my life since my brain bleed, good intentions often get the back burner when just trying to get through a day.

It has become painfully obvious as time moves on that little things mean a lot. This year, my progresses have been teeny and widespread. Yet, I purposefully stay grateful for each tiny progress. I say purposefully, because honestly, I sometimes have to remind myself to be grateful. For example, two weeks ago I was doing some baking, a task which able bodied persons can do without much fuss. Well, the next time you are sifting flour into a bowl, imagine that your holding hand (in my case, my left hand) weighs 25–30 lbs and as hard as you try you can’t keep from lowering it into the mixing bowl. Flour makes a mess when you drop your hand and the sifter into it repeatedly. Little things mean a lot. Next, imagine pouring Vanilla Extract into a teaspoon that you are awkwardly holding in an uncooperative left hand. Not only are you aiming for a moving target. But the vanilla extract runs down your forearm and drips off your elbow all over the floor because hard as you concentrate you can’t hold the teaspoon up and over the bowl and at the same time hold it level. Little things mean a lot. So, I purposefully choose to be grateful that I can now hold a sifter and teaspoon at all. But, it does not come easily as I spend 20 minutes cleaning up the mess.

Another example, my husband and I use cash for groceries. Two nights ago I went to the local grocery store to purchase one food item. I carried it to the register to check out. Paid with a $20 bill from my cash envelope which contained about $150 in bills of all denominations, probably about 10 bills. Anyway, after I received my $10 of change in my right hand I tried to put it into the envelope with the other cash. Tried being the operative word. I was holding the cash envelope in my left hand. The action of sliding the bill into the envelope dislodged the envelope from my grip and $150 of bills floated and scattered to the floor. Embarrassed, I quickly snatched them up and stowed them in the grocery bag so I could make a hasty retreat. I should note that the next person waiting in line watched my predicament without offering any assistance. The cashier also saw what had happened but immediately began scanning the next person’s items not allowing me to clear the area with a little more dignity. Little things mean a lot.

Yes, I am using this forum to vent my frustrations today. Yes, I know full well it could be so much worse than it is. I also know that the struggle is real and that little things add up and some days all the little things are an enormous burden to carry. I am my own worst enemy. I am constantly beating myself up over being overwhelmed and frustrated; holding myself to unrealistic expectations of humility and grace. Today I am just too worn out to pretend to be okay with all of this. I want to type with two hands, I want to hold a real book and be able to turn the pages without dropping the book, I want to scratch my right elbow, I want to crochet, I want to carry a drink and my plate to the table at the same time…little things mean a lot.