One Small Thing Now

This morning, I was amused by the irony that it has taken me so long to write this post on procrastination. The idea has been ripening in the back of my mind for some time, but the words just never fell into place. Every time I sat down to write, I found other things to do.

It's strange how the desire to do something the right way can prevent you from doing it at all. Fear of missteps keeps your foot off the path, or the knowledge that you may never finish the journey keeps you from ever starting. Sometimes you plan or dream, but wait for the circumstances to align before you take the leap. It's the wise thing to do. Pick your moment. You'll be better equipped to get the job done. You'll be able to do the most good. But, while you wait, opportunities slip by. Inaction can swallow up a life.

It's common enough in writing. Obviously, I fall into the trap now and then, and many of my friends who write have confessed to writer's block, stalling for months on projects because they can't decide on what is important enough to say. When we do choose our message, we agonize over how to deliver it, sometimes scrapping it alltogether if we can't find just the right words.

All kinds of actions, all kinds of positive movement, can be similarly squelched. The world is full of good causes. There are evils to be battled and wounds to be healed. The pile of work that needs doing is so immense that one person couldn't hope to do it all. Yet, we do hope.

Contemplate supporting one cause, and you'll see that it deserves your full attention, but even so, you'll barely touch the surface of the problem. Then guilt creeps in for the other causes you're ignoring. Are they any less worthy of your time? So you pause, weighing your options or trying to devise a plan to fix it all. Meanwhile the problems you hoped to solve continue.

I've always had the habit of picking up trash when I come across it. I take a walk and find myself carrying handfuls of cigarette packages and fast food wrappers to the nearest can. There are some places, though, where I could spend hours collecting litter and never reach my destination. The distress of walking in those places used to eat me up because I tend to think in an "all or nothing" way. Either I could try to clean it all, miss the point of the walk and ultimately fail in my attempt, or I could avoid the place but always know in the back of my head that I had done nothing.

The big jobs don't scare me. I'm not afraid to work toward a goal. In fact, the goals I have to work hardest for have always had the most appeal. I've always preferred big tasks with obvious results to those that are mundane and repetitive. Wash the dishes today, and it's easy enough, but you'll have to do it again tomorrow. The benefit is temporary, insignificant. But build a garden through weeks of hard work, and you can see things grow, feed many, gain a fuller sense of satisfaction. Over the years, I have had to push myself to do the easy things like dishes and vacuuming, but I've jumped right in to fix the roof or cut up the tree that blew over in the back yard. Big tasks are not a problem, but I balk at the unending or impossible ones.

There is a natural tendency for people to be overwhelmed by the scope of things. Our understandable but unhealthy focus on what we can't do or what we aren't doing keeps us glued to one spot, doing nothing at all. How can we break free and start moving in a positive direction?

Let go of those absolutes.

Remind yourself that perfection is not a necessity. Remind yourself that it's not up to you to heal the whole world; it's up to us. We are all responsible. We must all contribute, and though we may never reach the goal of perfection, each small contribution moves us closer to it.

I may not be able to pick up every piece of trash I encounter, but I'll pick up the dangerous shards of broken glass. I may not be able to make education free for all deserving students, but I can give something to a college scholarship fund or buy a textbook for a student. I may not be able to feed all the hungry people, but I can buy a little extra to donate to a food pantry when I shop. Small steps are better than no steps.

If you keep your eyes open, opportunities for such small contributions will present themselves. Don't worry that you can't do everything, just do one small thing now and know that you're moving in the right direction. Together, our small things will make the world a better place. The impossible becomes more possible because we have broken the paralyzation of inaction.

So, I am writing today, though my expressions are imperfect. I am volunteering some of my time, though I can only help a few directly. I am looking for little ways to do good because little ways are what I can offer. Though I may not be able to do it all, I can do one small thing now.