It’s safe to say that we constantly experience stress in our lives, regardless of whether we’d like to. Life is inherently stressful, and we, being creatures of habit, fall into its trap every time.
In these moments, I find myself leaning on a sense of nostalgia regarding childhood and the sheer joy I could find in the smallest things: if my parents said I could pick out a toy at the store, having my favorite meal, going to the park in the afternoons, or having no work to do after school. We used our naivety of being young to paint an always positive image of everything, establishing an ever-present feeling of comfort. But as we grow up, why do we need to relinquish this, in little and big things alike?
Over the past few months, however, I’ve tried to force myself to appreciate the smaller things in life, as thinking more in a “big-picture” sense scares me. Having a looming sense of pressure and questions of uncertainty that stem from the larger scale almost makes me want to avoid everything completely.
Some of these things include, but are not limited to:
- One of those vibrant pink and orange sunsets that you just can’t help taking a picture of
- Getting up early enough to watch the sunrise
- Naps with no deadline for when you need to wake up again
- Discovering a new song to listen to on my way to school
- Or suitable for a long drive with no real destination
- A good iced coffee
- Or a cup of tea with honey right before bed
- A night in which I can watch a comfort movie or show in bed
- Cuddling with my cat
I have always enjoyed being alone… but I can assume that this is not a common feeling as I feel it is one of those blessings that doubles as a curse. Growing up as an only child, I have become accustomed to doing most things on my own, which allowed me to develop a strong sense of independence from a very young age. But there are of course times when I do long for the easy ability to ask for the help I need from others or even just someone to sit next to me on the couch and watch a show, just knowing that they’re in my company. My independence and comfort in being alone however allows the little things to have more of an impact when I am alone, as I am learning to appreciate them being 100% myself.
I do think the comfort I find within myself is one of the “little things” that I don’t give enough credit to. In a time of comparing myself to others and forgetting the respect I have for my growth as a person is probably the most important lesson.
Over the years, I’ve realized that the beginning of adulthood comes with a constant sense of worrying and distractions. It feels like there is an invisible pressure to always look ahead, plan, or achieve, and to heavily fixate on what’s next. This becomes so overwhelming to the point where the present moment slips away like grains of sand running through my fingers. My childhood innocence which made everything seem possible and safe, feels out of reach. But why does it have to be?
But maybe the most important thing is not to reclaim that blind optimism of childhood, but to make space for the small joys, and to let them be enough. To allow a good song or a sunrise to become a moment to pause, even when things feel as if they are flying by. Maybe it’s about finding comfort in who I’m becoming, in addition to those around me.
I’ve begun to learn that my solitude is a sanctuary instead of loneliness. It’s a space where I can wholly be myself without any judgments or expectations, and I don’t have to prove anything to anyone. The quiet acceptance of who I am is one of the greatest comforts I found.
So now, when I sense myself worrying too much about the future, I pull myself back with something simple or take a moment in the quiet company of my thoughts. Perhaps growing up is not about relinquishing the comfort of the little things, but finding the strength to hold onto them through every twist and turn.