“Don’t sweat the small stuff.” — Shirley Johnson
I will be honest with you. I am a recovering small-stuff sweater.
I have lost peace over the dishwasher being loaded by someone other than me, and apparently very wrong. (You know what I mean.) I have lost peace over the line at the grocery store I clearly chose poorly. I have lost peace over a tone of voice in a text that, when I asked about it later, turned out to be nothing at all. I bet you have your own version of this list. We could probably write a small book together if we got going.
Then there is Shirley. 90-something. She has loved deeply, lost deeply, raised a family, weathered the kind of life that earns a person the right to a strong opinion. And what she says, with that warm smile of hers, is, “Don’t sweat the small stuff.”
This is the second of the six mantras Shirley shared with me. (If you missed the introduction to Shirley and her six mantras, you can find that story on the blog.) On the surface, it sounds like one of those phrases we have all heard. Until you watch Shirley actually live it. Then it stops being a phrase and starts being a way of life.
Here is what I have come to understand. Small stuff has a tax. We pay it in peace.
Every time we pour our energy into something tiny, we are not pouring it into something true. The driver who cut us off three minutes ago is not still in our day, but the irritation can be. The grumpy comment in the meeting is over, but the rerun of it in our head can play for hours. The small stuff itself is not the problem. The interest we pay on it is.
I have started using a simple test, and it has changed my afternoons. When I feel myself getting tangled up in something, I ask: Will this matter in five years?
Most of the time, the answer is no. Sometimes the answer is no, and not even in five hours.
That one question is doing more for my peace than I expected. It does not pretend the small thing did not happen. It just gently puts it back in its right size. It returns the stage to the things that actually matter.
I find that I need three reminders to live this mantra well. I am sharing them as the same notes I tape to my own bathroom mirror.
- Name it small.
The first move is just to notice. To say, in the quiet of my own heart, this is small. Not because it is silly, but because it is small. Naming it is a tiny act of agency. It is me telling my nervous system that I am the one driving today.
- Spend the energy somewhere truer.
If I let go of the small thing, where do I want to put the energy I just freed up? A walk under the trees. A call to my daughter. A genuine breath. A real conversation with the person in front of me. Letting go is not subtraction. It is redirection.
- Borrow some steadiness.
There is a Power breathing through us that is not anxious about the small stuff. Whatever we call it, that steadiness is available. I have come to believe that some of our greatest peace is borrowed. We do not have to manufacture it from scratch. We can lean in and let some of it run through us.
There is something else worth saying. Sometimes what looks like small stuff is actually a signal. A repeated tiny irritation can be pointing us at something bigger that is asking to be tended. So this mantra is not a tool to bypass our hearts. If something keeps coming up, listen to it. If it falls away under the five-year test, let it go with love.
Shirley’s wisdom is not about caring less. It is about caring well. She cares deeply about the things that matter, and she has trained herself out of bleeding peace into the things that do not. That is what I am practicing too.
Here is the part I find most beautiful. Every drop of peace we reclaim is peace we get to give. We bring our settled selves to our families, to our neighbors, to the people in line behind us at the store, to our text threads, to our communities. Standing Tall is built on the truth that healing rises in us and ripples out. The small stuff we stop carrying is real, and so is the warmth that takes its place.
If something in this stirred your heart, I invite you to come closer. Share this with someone who has been sweating small stuff lately. Reach out to a neighbor. And if you feel called to support our community in any way, with your time, attention, words, or a contribution, we welcome you with open arms. Every small softening adds up to a steadier world.
Next week we open Mantra Three: “God gave me a brain, so I better use it.” It is a beautiful one, and Shirley lives it in such a generous way.
Until then, may the small stuff stay small.
With love,
Colleen
