Why the LITTLE things in life can matter a LOT

THERE are, in all our lives, little things that go unnoticed. Things that we deem either insignificant or that we take for granted.

Few of us make it a habit to embrace and celebrate these small joys, but if ever there were a time to start doing it, then it is now.

As I write, Covid-19 has claimed six lives in Ireland, with more than 1,100 confirmed infections and tens of thousands more carrying or battling the disease.

We have some tough months ahead and it’s going to be hard to stay positive.

In my job I get to experience the highs and lows of people’s lives. A successful operation or course of therapy, someone who’s beaten cancer, the birth of a child — but I’ve also seen many people in pain and great emotional distress.

What I’ve learned is that even at times of turmoil, small gestures can bring relief, even happiness. They are a balm for the mind and soul and that really matters.

People have been urged to work from home and to avoid social contact as much as possible to help stem the spread of the coronavirus so more vulnerable people are protected and the HSE is not overwhelmed.

ANYONE who has seen the disturbing footage from Italy knows the reality of this epidemic, and we all have a duty to do as we are asked. That said, as we start isolating ourselves and minimising contact with loved ones, managing our mental health will be an increasing challenge for us all.

Even those of us who consider ourselves mentally robust will, I have no doubt, experience anxiety, loneliness and even fear in the weeks ahead.

There is no magic solution to this, but I want to urge you to make a point of celebrating the little things.

We labour under the delusion that to be enjoyable, things have to be special, expensive or rare — whether it’s the exotic holiday, the expensive watch, or the fine wine. But happiness and pleasure can be found even in the mundane.

As a teenager, I attended a convent school run by nuns. It was a closed order and they had no personal possessions.

I remember one nun who taught us home economics picking up a piece of Romanesco broccoli one day and staring at it with genuine astonishment — before showing us the perfect spiral pattern of its florets.

‘What an extraordinary world,’ she said, her expression full of wonder, as she handed it to me.

At the time I thought she had lost her marbles. It is only as an adult that I began to understand what she meant — there is joy and wonder all around if only we would look.

So that’s just what I’ve been doing this depressing week.

I’m washing my hands at every opportunity so I treated myself to some fragrant (and slightly expensive) liquid soap. Yes, really!

STANDING in front of the basin, I close my eyes, inhale and feel uplifted by the wonderful smell of . . . don’t laugh . . . rhubarb, as I sing ‘Happy Birthday’ twice to make sure I’m washing for the prescribed 20 seconds.

Meanwhile, I’ve bought fresh spring flowers to brighten up my flat. I make myself sit and stare at them for five minutes, concentrating on their delicate shape and colour. (I’ve sent bouquets to people who are self-isolating, too — it’s a great way of letting people know that you are thinking of them.)

I’ve rediscovered home-made coconut ice cream, started appreciating beautiful furniture, and I plan to re-read some favourite books and to get out old photographs to properly look at again.

Outdoors, I’ve been enjoying the gorgeous magnolias and camellias that are blooming now in gardens and squares in my city.

And I’ve also started ringing people. We’ve got so used to communicating via text, email and social media that we rarely dial up family and friends to talk to them.

You may dismiss me as a Pollyanna but there are much worse things to be — and I’m in good company.

St Therese of Lisieux (I told you I was educated by nuns!) is famous for her ‘little way’ — showing love and seeking fulfilment in the ordinary and everyday things. Vincent van Gogh said: ‘Great things are done by a series of small things brought together’.

My experience — personally and professionally — suggests both of them were right.