Small Good Things
By Juliet Marillier | November 18, 2024 |
In my August post I talked about writing in turbulent times, and suggested it might be easier to keep going with our creative work if we remained mindful of the small good things in our daily lives. Since I wrote that post our world has become even more turbulent. Shadows loom large over the future. Louder, more aggressive voices threaten to silence our words of hope, courage, defiance, protest. At such times it’s all too easy for the small good things to be lost or dismissed in the face of our fear, our anxiety, our anger that this has come to pass. It’s all too easy for the writer to fall victim to despair.
I’ve come close to it myself, despite my posts celebrating the beauty of nature, the wisdom of storytelling, the strength of our inner spirit. For me, the monumental threats to the planet and to the world order are joined by troubles that loom large in my everyday life – small troubles, some would say, but gut-wrenching on a personal level. My two elderly rescue dogs have been my close companions since they came into my care over three years ago, after being removed from a situation of appalling neglect. For those three and a half years they’ve been doing well, making the most of their second chance and becoming well-known local identities (being small, cute and near-identical helped.) But now both have developed life-threatening health problems. Seeing them suffer is terrible. Managing their situation gobbles up a lot of writing time. Anxiety banishes the muse just when I most need her. Yes, I am in the middle of writing a novel, and it has a looming deadline.
So how do we keep on going when things are hard? How do we help ourselves stay sane, balanced, rational, able to keep writing, to keep speaking out, to keep helping others, be they human or something else? How do we stop ourselves from simply shutting down, creeping into our dark burrows or rolling up hedgehog-style and trying to pretend none of it is real? And how is it that I, who so often write reminders to find beauty, wonder, positivity in this troubled world, seem not to be heeding my own good counsel?
It took a dog to remind me. One of the symptoms of Rocky’s complex medical condition is inappetence (a word that was new to me, meaning loss of appetite.) Part of managing his condition is a special diet. He also needs twice daily medication that should be given with food. My boy was visibly wasting away, not his old self at all, and (of course) he hated the special diet. Meal times turned into lengthy, stressful sagas, not always ending in success. For the first time ever, the old trust between human and beloved dog was on a shaky footing. I might add that I am an experienced carer for old and chronically ill dogs, having fostered or adopted similar rescue animals for at least the last 15 years or so.
So what changed? Well, the eating battle is not yet entirely won. But the moment Rocky decided to accept one, then two, then quite a few hand-delivered morsels of food felt like a blessing. Seeing the old brightness return to his eyes warmed my heart. Watching him get a good night’s peaceful sleep brought some peace back to my own spirit. I told myself: For now, it’s good. This moment is good.
Every day has many such moments. A writer friend of mine is keeping a positivity journal, in which she notes down five good things from each day. Those things might be work-related: a story acceptance, a success with public speaking, completing a quota of words for the day, week or month, finishing a difficult edit. Or they might be observations or learning based on domestic life. For today, mine might include a change in the weather, allowing me to spend time in the garden raking up leaves. What complex and lovely shapes and patterns! Then there was a walk that both dogs enjoyed, and stopping to chat with friends along the way. An interestingly patterned, intrepid bug made its escape as I trimmed a creeper, no doubt to go forth and munch on some more of the garden. And our local magpie friend flew down to the garden, looking for tasty morsels on the newly-raked lawn. There’s a whole story behind those magpie visits; the birds see me as a friend now.
Another positive moment for today – realising I have written this post at last, two days out from its due date. Friends, I know many of you have much bigger challenges than looking after a sick old dog. But being mindful of the small good things can help fortify you for those troubles that seem overwhelming. Something as small as the aroma of newly baked bread, or a child’s laughter, or a refreshing breeze. Something as small as getting a hundred words written. Something as simple as a few hours’ peaceful rest, or a favourite song playing, or a little dog curled up beside you, dreaming.
Feel free to share your own small good things. How do they help you in your daily life? How are they valuable to you as a writer?
Photo credit:
ID 331389650 | Serenity © Taviphoto | Dreamstime.com
Juliet Marillier has written twenty-four novels for adults and young adults and two collections of short fiction. Her works of historical fantasy have been published around the world and have won numerous awards. Juliet’s most recent series was Warrior Bards, of which the third and final book, A Song of Flight, was published in 2021. Her collection of reimagined fairy tales, Mother Thorn and Other Tales of Courage and Kindness, had its trade release in 2022. Mother Thorn is illustrated by Kathleen Jennings and published by Serenity Press.
Juliet is currently working on a two-book fantasy series. The first book in this duology, The Amber Owl, will be published by New Dawn in February 2025.
When not writing, Juliet looks after a small crew of rescue dogs.
I started using a French press coffee pot for my morning coffee and the coffee is so delicious and fragrant. I feel like I’m in a cafe, relaxing. A small change but it starts my day with peace and pleasure.
There’s nothing like a great coffee to start the day on a good footing!
Thanks for this reminder, Juliet, not only to take joy in the moment, but to remember that the madness in the US affects everyone. Over the last decade, beginning with the nightmare of 2016, I have adopted a ‘both/and’ mentality. I am both nourished by small moments and seriously angry. Every day, I spend time in my woods and near my beloved streams. But I also want to ft to steal one of my wealthy flag-waving neighbor’s horse and plant caltrops under certain peoples’ cars. But short of doing these things, I’m empowered to use my voice to tell a new story. Or maybe a very old one, dressed in new clothes and sporting new wings. Not sure yet. Work in progress. I hope your pups make a turnaround and that Rocky gets his mojo back. Blessings on you for caring for the elders. It’s always good to read your words.
Hi Susan and thanks for this wisdom. ‘Both/and’ makes complete sense to me. May your new story go well, whatever clothes it decides to wear.
A lovely post, Juliet, though today in my world it is cold and winter approaches, the garden has gone to sleep, and I am having trouble with some technology. And of course, the world changes rapidly, and we often wish life was as simple as a walk in the garden, a warm cup of tea, the time to read, write and enjoy the power of imagination. I believe profoundly in small good things. Time to embrace the day, and be grateful that life is once again opening up for me.
Thank you, Beth. I’m getting reminders of the fact that it is winter in the Northern Hemisphere. Some of my family are currently travelling there and sending photos of fallen leaves crunchy with frost, and people wearing many layers of clothing as they go on intrepid mountain walks. I do have fallen leaves here, hence the daily raking, but in this time of climate change the local trees are confused about what season it really is. I’m glad life is opening up for you again, and I wish you well.
Hey Juliet — Oh no! I’ve experienced the anguish of a dear one’s inappetence. It can induce such a feeling of helplessness. Good for you for finding the wins and living in those moments as well. Wishing you and Rocky the very best!
I recently walked to share a pint with a neighbor, to a spot neither of us have frequented. On the way there, he told me that he’s dropped all televised newscasts from his life, and has pledged to utilize the time reading. He’s surprised himself by not only reading the newspaper he subscribes to more thoroughly, but also has finished several books since he made the switch–upping his titles read per month significantly.
While we were finishing up and paying the tab, the pub was setting up for a weekly Karaoke night. At the owner’s behest, we waited to hear the first singer, a man about our age. He sang a Billy Joel song, so beautifully. Everyone there was moved. The owner (working the bar that night) said this gentleman has decided that singing karaoke is a moment of personal growth and beauty he can embrace each week.
Around here it feels like, slowly but surely, the human spirit is finding its way to shining once again, even if it’s only in the occasional glimmer. Thanks for having me take note of it, and utilize it in moving forward.
Lovely to hear from you, Vaughn, and the closing paragraph of your post is wonderful, extremely quote-worthy.
I had considered reducing my consumption of TV and radio news, which is currently quite regular. I like to stay informed, but too much news right now can only increase the anxiety, I feel.
Also, singing! Maybe that can get a whole post to itself some time next year. I am still in a small community choir, and every week at rehearsal I recognise how wonderful singing is for lifting the spirits (that includes singing in the shower/bath/wherever, but belonging to a choir adds another dimension of community connection and interaction, cooperation, often humour.) Singing is good for the body, too – doing it properly is a good workout. We recently performed as a guest choir at a schools choral festival, before a very large audience, and hearing the young people sing with such joy and enthusiasm was wonderful.
Hello Juliet. Thanks for a fine post perfectly time for the current moment.
“Friends, I know many of you have much bigger challenges than looking after a sick old dog. But being mindful of the small good things can help fortify you….”
So true. Small, generous acts for someone besides ourselves–or done for a pet–are something like spiritual caffeine. They give a boost, a little charge of well-being. I also think being kind to pets definitely carries over to being generous to people (with exceptions: Hitler loved his German shepherds). It’s one of the best things a pet can bring to children. Thank you again.
Thank you for this, Barry. Very good point about pets and children. My two oldies get to practise with my youngest grandchildren regularly – lessons in kindness and understanding both ways. And a lesson for me (Grandma) at the same time, about maintaining a balance.
This post couldn’t have come at a better time. I literally had a stress induced anxiety attack last night and have been hiding in my room. Despair is an eager companion; finding moments of joy today takes some work and planning. Thank you for reminding me, though, that it is out there waiting for me.
Hi Diane. I’m so sorry about the anxiety attack and I’m glad you have emerged now. Be kind to yourself as you plan the path forward – small gentle steps if you can. I wrap my arms around you from a distance, as I sit here at the writing desk with Rocky curled up asleep by my feet.
Good morning, Juliet–
A most excellent story, especially for this crabby US Southern lady editor who also has two elderly ailing dogs (dachshunds, both black-and-tans, one longhair and one shorthair).
The deal here is one of challenge (and a long sentence to describe it):
–Trying to manage two diets, two sets of meds, extra laundry (for accidents on their bedding), trips outside every two hours round the clock, and putting down and taking up heaven knows how many puddle pads carpeting the house, all the while also editing and living with a husband’s grief over his father’s recent passing. Add in sleep issues from two different medical conditions (mine), and the importance of good little moments suddenly looms large.
The quiet early-morning time, after Hank and Nitro have been let out and are back in, snuggled into their blankets and snoring at my feet, is prime time for me to sit and work with the pieced and eventually-to-be-embroidered quilt blocks I’ve slowly put together. Somehow the patient motion of needle and thread sets up a blank canvas inside my head, inviting calm, bright memories (and occasionally ideas for other fabric designs).
Then, as the night turns to pre-dawn, I go watch for the sunrise–hopefully another good one to be added to my mental collection of sunrises, as the writer Peg Bracken used to do, or perhaps only a somber gray sky full of clouds and gloom which will be filed under “Maybe revisit this one later.”
Then finally coffee, hot and fresh, or a cup of tea the same, and I find the day will be manageable, no matter what comes. I owe these beloved souls–my husband and my dogs–I owe them my best, as they’ve given their best to me. Those good little things are my saving grace to make everything happen.
Thanks again for a lovely post. Best of luck with your own dogs, and thank you for your rescues! —
That’s such an expressive piece of writing, Mary! You’re not the only writer I know who is also a quilter, but I’ve never seen the heart of the quilting process shown with such insight. Your words conjure up many vivid images for me.
It sounds as if you are dealing with a complex set of challenges, and I can only wish you continuing strength for the pathway forwards. Rocky and Bramble send their doggy regards to Hank and Nitro, though if they all met face to face, Rocky would probably bark an ear-splitting challenge! (Since going completely deaf, his voice has got louder.)
Thank you for your kind words and wishes, and those from Rocky and Bramble. —
We’re going to just muddle on–another Peg Bracken paraphrase–putting one foot in front of the other and usually right into the flypaper (or in our case, a soaked puddle pad). Let’s face it–if life was always perfect, we wouldn’t know how to cope with trouble.
….but we’ll be all right. The morning’s chilly, but the coffee is hot, and the elderly fur-babies are sleeping after having declared the squirrels and deer in the back yard to be animals non grata. Soon I’ll get out the silk ribbons and embroidery thread (after I finish today’s editing assignment), and the world will be good again.
My first emotion upon waking has almost always been overwhelming gratitude to God…and now even more so, for a new day and all the blessings to come. It is such a pleasure to wake up to the incessant demands of my kitties wanting to be petted. Of course, I succumb. They’ve been a balm to me, especially since we still miss our elderly golden mix we had to put down over the summer. She was 16. I remember how great it was to have those little wins with her. Bless you for taking good care of your rescues.
Vijaya, I like the idea of gratitude for each new day, whether or not that gratitude comes as part of religious faith. My best regards to your feline companions, and I’m sorry to hear about the loss of your dog. 16 is a very good age for a bigger dog. Love to you and yours.
Juliet, Your lovely words touched me and my eyes welled with grateful tears. Every day I collect moments of joy or beauty and try to touch every person I encounter with kindness, leaving them happier, I hope. Thank you for the post. I, too, have cared for older dogs, and have been overwhelmed with the depth and power of the love we share.
Hi Mary. I’m happy that you liked the post. I love the sound of your daily practice of kindness. A life lived very well!
Lovely Juliet–I’m sharing.
Looking at the roses I planted in honour of my late Aunt Sadie and my darling Father, Algie, bloom in my garden. This brings me peace and grounds me. Out of sorrow and loss something beautiful can be nurtured for eternity.❤️ The unsolicited hugs from my teenage children. Giggling with my husband. These help overcome my worries about the world and help me write with hope.
Thanks so much for this, Annette. I’m so happy you are continuing to write with hope (and I’m very much looking forward to the book, when it comes to fruition!)
It’s always good to be reminded to focus on the little moments of joy because they all add up. As well as celebrating the small wins not just the big ones.