It’s the small things

Sometimes, for a host of reasons, your world shrinks.

Maybe it’s stress over one life-change like moving house or a new job. Maybe your mind is entirely consumed with worry about one person. Maybe that person is yourself. Your world becomes a narrow tunnel, or a cramped cave, as you grapple with this one all-consuming thing.

When I experience this feeling of being simultaneously overwhelmed and pushed into a corner, I reach out and grab at the tiny, inconsequential things that can bring immense reassurance. Like Wilson, the football, in Castaway, Tom Hanks’ only comfort. Yesterday, I found myself trying to keep my eyes on a tiny wren in the garden. The huge pigeons, picture-perfect blue tits and noisy starlings kept on trying to win my attention but yesterday, I wanted small. I wanted to be reminded that however unseen we feel, we still matter. Just like the wren. ‘Not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care’.*

Recently, as I go through my tunnel, I’ve been finding it difficult to write. Last week a friend encouraged me to write ‘postcard stories’ – little stories that could fit onto a postcard. I tried it and found that it worked! When your head is stuffed with worry, try and find a tiny, postage stamp space for yourself. There, you can remember you are more than all your worries, your pain, your pre-occupations. There, you can find a little bit of happiness.

And maybe share it with someone else.

*Matthew 10v29.

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