So far . . . I have realized that worrying about the Big Stuff is just a Big distraction from sweating all the small things, which sadly are often left by the wayside in pursuit of a more peaceful existence.

A well intended mentor once gave me a copy of Richard Carlson’s Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff and It’s All Small Stuff—leave those pesky insignificant worries behind! Now, I know that I am ignoring all of the other handy meditations within the tiny tome but I gotta say, it’s not working for me right now. Focusing on, say, what I should do with the rest of my life and finding calm in the present just prevents me from enjoying my own neurosis that push me through the day.

Right now, after just experiencing a significant loss and a significant life change, I think it’s best that I fixate on more immediate concerns like keeping track of when I last washed my hair, or pondering if anyone will notice that I am holding up my pants with a safety pin and rubber band contraption. I mean, I’m crafty but not in a seamstress kind of way. I recently rigged up a homemade bicycle holding rack just using an old 180” boxing handwrap. I wanted to make more space in my laundry room.

Yes, I have a laundry room. Don’t roll your eyes, you apartment dwellers. I know I am a lucky duck. I also know there really is no reason that I need to be worrying about what my life will look like in twenty years. Career paths, life partners, friendships, and rewarding hobbies can just take a back seat to the fact that I can wash my clothes whenever I want. It’s a privilege, not a right. That is what my dad said when it came to getting my driver’s license—I can lose that sucker in the blink of an eye if I didn’t respect the law of the road. That law, I learned was, gunning the accelerator to efficiently pass the lumbering tractor holding up a line of four cars behind it.

That’s right, I’m from Iowa. The land of four-car-long traffic jams. By the end of this, you’ll remember that I am from Ohio. And then you’ll probably want to leave me a comment asking about how many potato fields I’ve frolicked through as a child. That’s okay. I understand. Geography is not your strong suit. Just like planning my life hasn’t been mine, nor is it going to be a priority right now. Right now, I am just focusing on being mindful of all the very important minuscule decisions coming to me in the moment.

Things like what in the world makes this peach tea from Starbucks so delicious? I should look into it. It’s probably artificial flavors, which must be my favorite ingredients because they are in every delicious thing I eat. I used to worry about chemicals in my food, on my body, in my clothes and detergents. Those are Big things. I used to make my own body scrub, shampoo, toothpaste and deodorant out of baking soda. I worried about how toxins would affect my overall well-being and health. I didn’t want to die of cancer down the road. Instead, I invested in giant quantities of baking soda, vinegar, Castile soaps and went to acupuncture. But see, I’m getting off track now, as I always tend to do when I’m sweating the big things. So that is why I am no longer going to focus on big life goals. Instead, I am making a sticker chart to keep track of my shampooing schedule. I am writing to-do lists that include activities like 1) go to Target 2) Repeat. And honestly, I feel so accomplished and all I had to do to achieve this satisfaction was put on pants and socks—and they don’t even have to match (too much pressure).

Isn’t that the feeling that everyone is striving for when they make their five and ten year plans? Am I not on to something? I have all these amazing little goals to focus on. And, at the end of the day I can congratulate myself with rewards like processed soybean chicken products, cheap lipgloss from, where else, Target, and enjoy the calming sound of my own washing machine spinning those quality handcrafted fabrics from China in a bath of sodium laurel sulfates. Life is good, right now, in this moment, thanks to a good head (of clean hair, approximately three days a week) on my shoulders.