Some Things May Seem Inconsequential, but They Make Life Better

A reflection for the year-end.

Photo by Sven Brandsma on Unsplash

Recently, as I was lumbering around my house and my eyes started spinning in their sockets from seeing the exact same things every day (due to the community quarantine), I have been asking myself a lot about why I do the little things I do. Why must I arrange the pillows on the sofa according to the prints on the pillows? Why do I arrange the files on my computer so carefully? Why is it that even if something as small as arranging the pens and pencils in my organizer seems so inconsequential, I still do it?

This past year, we weren’t able to do things that were so normal before. They were so normal, I thought I could do them forever. I could no longer travel, or go outside to attend school and work, of course. I also couldn’t celebrate holidays with other people in the same way. I couldn’t barge in my friends’ houses anytime I wanted.

I also lost some of the little things that I do every day.

I was barely able to experience opening and closing the door of my shoe cabinet this year. I stayed at home all day, every single day (for 8 months or more. My city has the longest lockdown in the world). I didn’t experience punching holes in the stationery we would use for writing our teachers’ day letters. I didn’t experience shutting our classroom door as it vehemently fought to stay open every time the wind blew.

So, why do I still do the little things that I do, even if they seem inconsequential? Firstly, it is because they make life better. These little things add up, and then add up a little more, so that each day becomes a tiny bit easier and brighter.

The world will still turn even if the pillows on the sofa are a little bit lopsided. The moon will still reflect the sun’s light even if my pens and pencils are quite messy. However, when I fix these things, they make my life a bit better. They are part of my everyday routine.

They may seem inconsequential now, but opening my shoe cabinet and punching holes in stationery also seemed inconsequential at the time.

Secondly, I do them because my everyday routine, along with the little things that I get to do, can change at any moment. The pandemic made sure that I know nothing is set in stone and nothing will ever be certain.

Because I know that, I will appreciate these small things that I do a little more. I won’t be able to do them forever, anyway. I won’t own the same pillows forever, and I won’t have the same desk or the same pens and pencils forever. I may not live in the same house in the distant, unknown future.

Life’s Made up of Little Things by Mary R. Hartman

Life is made up of little things,

no great sacrifice or duty,

but smiles and many a cheerful word

fill up our lives with beauty.

The heartaches, as they come and go

are but blessings in disguises,

for time will turn the pages o`er

and show us great surprises.

Thank you for reading, and Happy New Year! Stay safe and healthy.

Sometimes I read, and sometimes I write. Sometimes I ask questions, and hope to bring the answers to light. Anyway, thanks for stopping by!