Little Things

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Sometimes I just sit and think about the Little Things that happen around me all the time. Things, not like why I got the grades I got or why I am where I am, not so philosophical. Just things like the bird croaking away in the garden outside.

It croaks in it’s characteristic voice without me being aware of it, but I have it registered and it contributes tremendously to the making of a ‘scene’- a tranquil scene to think in, a sense of comfort. I haven’t seen it, I have barely any knowledge of it, but my conscious has acknowledged it.

And then, when I start thinking about it, about the bird in the garden, I notice…

I notice my unreasoned conviction that the bird is a crow. Why? No reason. But I just expect a crow.

I notice unaided notion that it is really in the garden. There is no garden near my room. A balcony and a shrubbed park-like place , but nothing to call a garden. And when I think about it, the bird really sounds much farther away.

Things I know without knowing… That I believe automatically… that imagination triggers truths on its own… when did such prejudice invade? When did notions prevail over simple truths like a bird croaking? When did it start becoming a crow in a garden?

Think about the little things some day.

Why do you like a rose the same shade of red as another and not the other? Is it because of this one chance drop of water on its petal? Is that enough to bias you?

Why do you chose him over her in your team, when they are both your very great friends? Is it because he is standing with a smile and she is tense?

Little things… awfully important things… Catalysts of decisions, of choice.

Think about the little things some day. Think about the metal buttons on the pockets of your jeans- how the little decoration are much more than ‘little decorations’. Suppose you were carrying something very important, very secretive and very metallic. And by chance, you had to walk through a metal detector. The alarm goes off, and the little metal buttons save the more significant discovery.

Pretty dramatic, I know. Metal detectors don’t even work that way, chances greatly are. But thoughts like this make little things much better. The little things we don’t think about but they help us, we don’t even know when…

The extra salt… the one pebble… the single sunray…

Little things…

 

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