#02 - Small, Postscript
Your reflections on how less can be more than enough (and a couple of wintertime offerings)
Hello there
A couple of weeks ago I wrote to you about smallness, and how there’s magic in the small thing, offering a kind of outsized strength. I also shared how I’d love these letters to be a dialogue. I invited you to hit reply and tell me what ‘small’ means to you…and you did.
So here, in our second instalment, I’m sharing some of what’s coming up for you. It’s kind of a beautiful thing to be in conversation like this — a kind of call and response with the universe. And I wonder if some of what was shared might resonate with your own feelings.
First, some reflections on what small means in our busy digital world. Tash in Hackney’s thoughts turned to social media, where success is so often associated with bigness, even if that feels like less…
I really resonated with this newsletter. This year I have been feeling such a growing unease with Instagram. The rare occasions I feel like posting, I am put off because I feel like I am not talking to people who would actually care. I look at my follower number now (1,000-something), which although is pretty small, feels ridiculous to me now — who the heck are these people? Every time I log on and see that I have lost followers, I feel happy! Which is funny because about two years ago, I’d take it as a personal insult.
It really struck me how more doesn’t always feel good. How when we take a second to listen to ourselves, less can be more than enough. That so often what we find deeply satisfying is a one on one, or a small gathering. Not a broadcast to an invisibly large audience. There’s a kind of emptiness there.
Which is something that feels particularly relevant at this time of year. George in Kent is thinking about smallness in the context of the big expectations around the holiday season…
I’m not sure I’m in the middle of “my small” yet but I am very much looking forward to what is going to be a small Christmas at ours this year. I’ve always loved Christmas - but I’m getting to a place in life, prompted by young children, where big is definitely not better. You lose sight of what it’s all about. Lots of awful things came from Covid, but one plus point was its ability to shrink our Christmases and make them a little bit more meaningful somehow. Allow more powerful conversations to take place instead of rushing around trying to see everyone, please everyone. So this year it is a small Christmas on the cards for us and I can’t wait!
I can really relate to this. Covid was an odd time, but to me the simplicity was like a relaxing out-breath, perhaps nowhere moreso than during these big holidays with their whirlwind of expectation and people pleasing. Less of that.
Speaking of simplicity, Linda in London shared some beautiful thoughts on freedom in minimalism…
I think I may have said this to you before - the only thing I want more of, is less. I think it's my age. I'm sending books to friends to make space on my shelf, clothes repurposed, my dead dad's pile of old corduroy trousers now a long turn of the century skirt. To paraphrase 'The English', the difference between what I want and what I need is what fits in my shed!
We need less than we think. For a few months last year I lived out of a small suitcase. When I got back to my home, I was genuinely perplexed by all the things I own. Whose stuff was this? Why does this woman have so many dresses? So many books? It felt so unnecessary and wasteful, having already proved I didn’t even miss them once they were out of sight.
And finally, Claudia in Italy reflected on what we’re doing here, in inviting dialogue where usually we just see broadcasts…
I'm not sure I have particularly acute insights on going small to add to what you so brilliantly put in pixels and bits. I am however fascinated by the idea of sparking a conversation out of a newsletter, which is by definition a broadcast medium, and how we can look at things differently and tweak the inner workings of what we consider granitic - and maybe not intended for us to use - to make it work to our own advantage and rules.
I love this idea too. I actually received more and longer responses to this newsletter, sent to around 30 of us, than I would ever usually receive when I was pressing send to an audience twenty times that size.
I like our smaller world very much.
Whatever this topic means to you, I hope this letter finds you well, appreciating some of the small things. There’s a lot to love there.
Winter Connections
Which leaves me to share a few things happening within and beyond the Where We Grow lands, to which you are invited.
🌕 First, Linda (of aforementioned minimalist shed fame) is guiding a Full Moon Walk in Epping Forest in deepest East London on Wednesday 7th December. Moonlight, good company and ancient woodland. What’s not to love. You’re very much invited — if you’d like to join just hit reply and I’ll share the details.
🙏 Next, I’m about to open up two 121 spots on my 8-week Mindfulness of Healthy Living course, for a bargainous £30 a session! I learning to love teaching mindfulness practice — mainly because it’s amazing how quickly people see positive results. So if you would benefit from better sleep, more calm and creativity in 2023, find out more & get in touch.
🎶 Finally, on Friday 9th December it’s the now notorious Yule Rock concert in Holborn’s Conway Hall. This year, I’m leading some of the sing-a-longs along with Sarah Weiler of Power of Uke fame, who many of you will know. There are still some tickets available – snap yours up here.
Whatever you’re up to this month, wishing you many small moments of goodness.
With warm wishes,
Kim
Founder and Facilitator
Where We Grow
PS - If you’d like to revisit past issues of this letter you can do here on Substack