Little and Often
This House Wren was flitting to and fro in my backyard, gathering insects for their chicks during springtime.
What would you do if you had all the time in the world? Would you begin that creative endeavor or passion project you’ve always wanted to do? Would you visit with loved ones, languishing in your extended time together? Read that book, organize that room, catch up on all the sleep you’ve lost?
For me, I’d dive deep into wildlife photography, going on extended trips and spending all day in the presence of animals great and small. The thing is, as a stay-at-home mom who’s also in a two-year training program, I don’t have all the time in the world. Some days, I feel lucky to get any time to myself, and if I have energy for something more than light reading at the end of the day, it’s a bonus. To go out all afternoon chasing wildlife with my camera feels like a luxury.
About a year ago, I stumbled across the work of an artist who lives with chronic illness. For him, large stretches of time weren’t feasible. He could only do what his body had energy for, which often wasn’t much, and yet he still wanted to pursue his longing to make art. So, in the creative tension of reality and dreams, he found another way. Little by little, each day, he drew. And this little bit, as often as possible, turned into larger works, more offerings, more satisfaction, and a deepening of skills.
“Little and Often” has now become my mantra, a value by which I navigate this season of my life. I can’t always set aside large chunks of time, but I can take 10 minutes a day, even 20 minutes, to sit in my backyard and photograph the birds who visit our feeders. It’s not really a lot of time, so it doesn’t feel like too much of a lift. Yet I’m seeing more growth from this little bit than I was when I’d get out once or twice a month. More than that, though, it becomes an act of devotion — a small thing, almost daily, to nourish something that brings me alive. In that light, it becomes a joy rather than a burden. I drink deeply when large stretches of time come. In the meantime, I sip day by day to keep myself hydrated.
None of this is rocket science. Yet it is a small thing that is making a world of difference. Think back to what you’d do with all the time in the world. How might “Little and Often” encourage you to make time each day to nurture that which is important to you?