Small Doesn't Mean Insignificant

One of the things I had to change was my idea of what counted.

I had a tendency to look at individual actions in isolation. A twenty-minute walk didn’t seem like much exercise. Half an hour with a book didn’t seem like much time to myself. A quick coffee with a friend didn’t feel the same as spending an afternoon together.

But I was looking at each one as a single event.

Twenty minutes today might not seem significant. Twenty minutes several times a week is different. A quick phone call with a friend might not feel like much, but regular contact keeps a friendship connected. Half an hour spent doing something I enjoy might disappear quickly, but keep finding those half hours and I am making space for something in my life that matters to me.

That was the other part of Little & Often.

Often mattered just as much as little.

I didn’t need every walk to be an hour. I needed to keep walking. I didn’t need every catch-up with a friend to be a long lunch. I needed to stay connected. I didn’t need an entire afternoon to myself before doing something I enjoyed. I needed to stop allowing months to pass without doing it at all.

There were also times when “little” was genuinely all I had available. Caring was demanding. Life was busy. Some weeks went completely off the rails.

Little & Often gave me somewhere to start again.

If I missed a walk, I hadn’t failed. If plans with a friend were cancelled, the friendship wasn’t lost. If a week passed and I had done very little for myself, I didn’t need to wait until Monday, next month or some imaginary quieter period to start again.

I could do something today.

I think that mattered because all-or-nothing thinking had made it very easy for me to do nothing. If I couldn’t do something the way I wanted to, I postponed it.

Little & Often gave me another option.

Do what you can, with the time you have, and keep coming back to it.

Stop Waiting For The Perfect Opportunity

I think one of the reasons I kept putting things off was because I had a picture in my head of how I wanted them to happen.

If I was going to spend time with my husband, I wanted us to have a proper evening together. If I was catching up with a friend, I wanted time to sit and talk without watching the clock. If I was going to exercise, I wanted to do a proper workout. If I was going to start something, I wanted enough time to make decent progress.

There is nothing wrong with wanting those things.

The problem was that my life didn’t always cooperate.

Caring could be unpredictable. Plans changed. Appointments ran late. Someone needed something. A phone call came in. Sometimes I simply didn’t have the energy I thought I would have.

If I kept insisting on the ideal amount of time, I was going to miss a lot of perfectly good opportunities.

I had to become more willing to take the time that was available.

Sometimes that meant my husband and I grabbing a coffee together rather than waiting until we could organise an entire day out. Sometimes seeing a friend meant an hour instead of an afternoon. Exercise might be a walk rather than the workout I had planned.

It wasn’t always what I would have chosen if I had complete control over my time.

But that didn’t make it worthless.

I also stopped expecting every attempt to go according to plan. Sometimes I would make time for myself and caring would interrupt it anyway. That was frustrating, but I didn’t want one interruption to become another reason to give up.

There would be another twenty minutes. Another coffee. Another walk. Another opportunity.

Little & Often gave me permission to work with the life I actually had rather than constantly waiting for the life I wished was a little less complicated.

And I think that is an important distinction.

Making the most of smaller opportunities didn’t mean I stopped wanting more time for myself. I absolutely did.

You Don’t Always Notice The Difference Straight Away

One of the problems with doing things little and often is that the results aren’t always obvious.

Clean one drawer and you still have a cupboard that needs sorting. Walk for twenty minutes and you don’t suddenly feel incredibly fit. Spend half an hour doing something for yourself and your life doesn’t instantly feel different.

It can be easy to think, what difference is this really making?

I had to stop expecting every small action to produce an immediate result.

The value was often in what happened over time.

One walk became another. A quick coffee kept a friendship connected. Making time for something I enjoyed reminded me to do it again. Looking after one part of my health made it easier to pay attention to another.

None of those individual things changed my life.

But collectively, they started changing how much of my life I was giving back to myself.

I think that distinction is important because when you’re caring for someone, there are plenty of things that demand your attention and produce an obvious result. You collect the prescription because medication is needed. You make the appointment because someone needs to see the doctor. You solve the problem because something needs fixing.

Doing something for yourself doesn’t always come with that same immediate payoff.

Sometimes the benefit is simply that you kept showing up for a part of your life that could easily have disappeared.

And over time, those small choices began to matter to me.

I wasn’t waiting until I could exercise perfectly. I was exercising when I could. I wasn’t waiting until I had endless free time to nurture my relationships. I was staying connected in the ways available to me. I wasn’t waiting for an entire day to do something I enjoyed. I was finding smaller opportunities to do it.

There was no dramatic transformation.

There didn’t need to be.

Little & Often was never about changing everything at once. It was about not allowing everything that mattered to me to wait.

Here's What I've Learned

Little & Often started as a practical way of getting things done when I no longer had the time to do them the way I once had.

But over time, it taught me something much more important.

I had spent too long waiting for more time. More time to exercise. More time with my husband and children. More time for friends. More time for my own health, interests and the things I enjoyed.

I kept thinking I would get back to those parts of my life when things settled down.

The problem was, caring didn’t necessarily settle down.

There was always another change, another need or another period when someone required more from me. If I kept waiting for the right amount of time before doing something for myself, I could keep waiting indefinitely.

Little & Often changed what I considered worthwhile.

I stopped dismissing twenty minutes because it wasn’t an hour. I stopped thinking a quick catch-up wasn’t worth having because it wasn’t a long lunch. I stopped believing I needed a whole afternoon before I could spend some time doing something I enjoyed.

That didn’t mean I stopped wanting more time. I did.

I would have loved more time with my growing children. More quality time with my husband. More time to nurture friendships, look after my health and pursue my own interests.

Little & Often wasn’t a substitute for that time.

It was a way of making sure I didn’t keep postponing everything that mattered to me while waiting for more of it.

Looking back, I think that was the biggest lesson.

You don’t always get to choose how much time is available to you. But when there is some time, however small, don’t automatically dismiss it because it isn’t enough to do things the way you once did.

Use what you have.

Then come back and do a little more when you can.

Little & Often.