Bits

There is power in the little tasks. I speak to clients a lot about making tiny changes in scheduling that will open up their opportunity to write into a vast and spacious place.

Somewhere in our past lies a hidden but stalwart pronouncement that change is only possible if it is monumental, massive, overwhelming, rewrites the slate of daily experience, or requires huge shifts of known experience.

Sometimes we need to make lifechanging decisions; to yank the cloth off the already set table; to raise our usually-quiet voice to a roar; or to go silent when our words need time to recalibrate with our heart.

But it is also possible to open up new vistas and landscapes within ourselves (and by extension in the world) by fine tuning, making minute adjustments, to daily experience.

During this chillier, darker autumn time, I often get inspired to create. Last week I had a great desire to make an earth-tones collage. I knew there were too many obligations on the calendar for the workweek so I planned to begin my creation on the weekend. I pulled out the spare folding table, set it up next to my desk, and climbed to an upper closet shelf to get out a box of paper scraps. I spent a few minutes finding autumn-colored swatches of old paintings I had made over the years and had since torn up as collage fodder. 

Then, the alarm rang and I was out the door to the next obligation. And the next. And then sleeping. And then the next and the next and the next; days have passed and the scraps are still waiting. 

I’ve enjoyed seeing them there vibrant and patient, even as my workweek took off at a whole new pace.

We do not create our big ideas in a single sitting. 

For a person who is hell-bent on completion, I have learned this as a big-fat-smack-across-the-face type of lesson – over many years, numerous dissatisfactions, umpteen failures. But I have also learned this through successes and achievements; in retrospect I have seen how – out of sheer necessity – I have learned to step up to the big tasks one blisteringly small bit at a time. 

I do not write my books in a single sitting, day, week, or sometimes even within a year. Watercolor paintings, a collage, knitted scarf, raking the fallen leaves, weed-pulling, housecleaning…I’ve translated this behavior to nearly everything. Of course, I complete a shower, the dishes, billing, repotting a plant, a hike – in a single shot. But the desires to become more creative, or to be a better mentor, or to be more widely published, or to become a more integral member of my community do not come to fruition overnight.

So I continue to glance at the pieces for my collage. I endeavor to scribble new ideas for my book. 

I steadfastly meditate, pray, care for those around me, stretch my muscles in small daily doses, in the hopes that one day I will feel more spiritually aligned, more considerate of my fellows, stronger and fitter. 

We do this in bits, as we can.

The collage of life continues. We can find the spaciousness we need.

All blog images created & photographed by Jennifer J. Wilhoit unless otherwise noted. Please circulate images with photo credit: "©2014 JenniferJWilhoit/TEALarbor stories. AllRightsReserved."