Small, little – yet very big. Chris is down with painful aches in both ears right now. We’ve been to the doctor and the ER – probably back to the ER tonight. Such a small part of our body. And yet the pain seems immense.
Last week, we got out the window AC units (before the weather decided to revert back to early April), and two of them did not work. One came sputteringly to life a few days later, but the other is down and out and not getting back up. The culprit appears to be mice. Small, little, yet – in this case – very capable of big damage.
Yoga practice last night: arch your back the tiniest amount. WOW! Turn your hand so the pinky side is facing the floor. OH! Come on to your forearm instead of your hand. MY! Small, little changes; big results.
Never underestimate the power of the small. A small change. A small part. It can all be bigger than you’d imagined. I imagine that life without a pinky toe is undoubtedly different from life with one, effecting balance and stability in unexpected ways. Just as a statement in the affirmative is much different than one in the interrogative, e.g., I am a strong, clear teacher. v. Can I be a strong, clear teacher? Life with a neatened bedroom – as mine has been for a week now – is notedly more grounding than one without. Pasta with a single minced anchovy is significantly different than one without.
We become so mired in and attached to the BIG. I heard two students at class tonight wishing they could do “all those cool, hard yoga poses.” Just sink into your downward dogs and enjoy, I want to say. There are literally years of discovery to be had in that pose alone. Just as a semi-colon perfectly placed can enliven or muddy a sentence, so can the placement of the hands and the melting of the heart toward the mat bring an entirely new experience into the pose. Little. Small. But big. Where can you shift – just so?