Tiny Shifts, Huge Changes

Until a few weeks ago, for many months, my default state had been one of absolute overwhelm.

Hundreds of unread texts and emails. To-do lists growing like the hydra. Death-gripping a slippery mallet in a stupid game of whack-a-mole.

Never enough time. Never enough energy. Always feeling behind.

But something has changed.

I’ve been trying my ass off to find points of leverage with which to create more space and energy.

It's been hard. Harder than it had to be. That's what happens when you're overwhelmed. Mole hills end up feeling like mountains.

But last week, I did it. I found a point of leverage. It was so small, but it was also huge.

It's June 23 in Nova Scotia (it was when I wrote this). I’m sitting outdoors. On the patio. The weather is perfect. There’s a heat wave coming for the next two days, but it hasn't arrived yet.

It’s slightly too chilly to be shirtless—like I was 20 minutes ago—but a thin t-shirt was all I needed to feel just right.

A moment ago, I thought to myself: everything is perfect.

This says a lot, because this past year has been hellish in a lot of ways.

Zuko is laying at my feet. Birds are chirping. The green leaves of a large maple tree are rustling in gentle breeze—about five feet from my head. I just finished a nice piece of halibut that I bought from a fishmonger at the market.

This evening feels s p a c i o u s.

Around 6pm, I was racking my brain, trying to figure out what I had forgotten to do. Some errand. Obligation. Task. “It's 6 PM, I can't possibly just have an entire evening with nothing that needs to be done?”

But it's true. I have a few hours to do whatever the hell I want.

Many things had to happen for this to be the case. I needed to stay up to date on my laundry, keep my apartment relatively clean, and have meals at least semi-prepped in my fridge—amongst at least several million of the other demands of adulthood. But there is one tiny change I made to my morning that changed the dynamic of my entire evening.

Instead of taking Zuko for a walk at the park this morning, I wore my running shoes, shorts, and a crewneck sweater, and I turned my daily dog walk into a workout. Not a terribly serious workout. About 2.5kms of running, 50 squats, 100 push-ups, some lunges, leg swings and other hip openers.

I had fun, he had a blast, and this ended up winning me about 90 minutes back in my day.

90 minutes…

To write (which I did). To see or FaceTime a friend. To think about other tiny shifts I can make. To do nothing.

This is gold!

I'm reminded that these tiny shifts in our routines and patterns—patterns of thinking & doing—are always available to us. In our overwhelm, defeated-ness, stuck-ness, we allow ourselves to believe that they are not, but they are.

I recently hired a personal coach.

Someone who I know—because they’ve already done it—can help me get out of my own way and identify more opportunities for tiny shifts which, when stacked on top of one another, can create massive impact in my life and overall well-being.

It’s going really well.

Tiny shift by tiny shift, I am opening to possibility.

What’s one tiny shift you can make today, in order to do the same?

- Dave

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