The (wo)man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones.
– Confucius

I don’t want to bore myself or you with another life-changing realization, but… –

I finally understand the idea that doing small actions adds up to a big goal. I mean, I’ve known it, intellectually, yet I needed to be reminded by a quote or a ‘mental’ slap in the face.

Lately, when I envision the whole picture of my goals, I yawn with the thought of how many small steps are needed – giving up seems like the only choice.

Of course, Confucius was right. An increment – a beginning – a barely perceptible growth. Each increment adds up like ‘compound interest.’ Who put that money in my account? Each cent adds up to millions!

‘Focus on the word, then a sentence, then a paragraph,’ I say to myself, ‘keep going, you have more to write, don’t quit.’

I look at the word count at the bottom left of my screen, it’s climbing!

By noon, I have words on a page – not the whole blog, just a paragraph. Not the whole book, just a chapter.

‘Ow.’ I rub my shoulder.

A pain in my right shoulder – I google exercises for shoulder pain. They seem lame – I try. Shoulder still hurts. After a week, hmmm, better. I keep lifting that weight ‘out to the side and turn wrist,’ like pouring a beer.

Okay, so I stop focusing on the pain (the big goal) and concentrate on the small movements of my arm. Once again, before I can say: ‘supercalifragilisticexpialidocious’ – the new muscle strength takes over the pain.

If I don’t think of the end goal, but focus on the exact moment of doing, the outcome seems miraculous.

I want to run a marathon – not to think of the 42.2 km distance, but to keep an eye on the next step of 4 – 10-kilometre increments, the distance flies by and the medal hangs around my neck.

I want to grow a tulip. Plant the bulb before the flower appears! The increment of planting the bulb makes for a beautiful outcome.

I want to play the song: ‘Hurdy Gurdy’ on the violin.  Too many torturously difficult notes. Play one bar at a time! The song comes together, as if by magic.

Now what am I trying to say?

It is all about increments, stupid.

Right, I got it.



About Organized Bohemian

Dana M. Petric is a writer/landscape gardener/blogger/performer/office temp/web designer. Her wrestle between creative and money-making ventures permeates her writing. Self-publishing her first book, Growing Iris, Dana continues on her path toward writing full-time. Beginning her post-secondary education at UBC (Liberal Arts dropout), she prevailed at George Brown Theatre School (Theatre Arts Diploma) and matured at BCIT (Technical Writing Diploma). She lives in Vancouver, BC with her partner Eric and daughter Cleo.
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