This is a busy time of year to be a Chinook Country Dancer. Our instructor, Reba J, spends hours booking performances around the city. All of us look forward to donning our white ‘fur’ wrist bands and switching the adornment on our hat from our summertime red rose to a white poinsettia. Against the backdrop of our red shirts, those white accessories look so Christmasy. Sequens on skirts and pants replace our more uniform summer look and sparkling earrings, necklaces and bracelets complete our festive look.
Some of the girls dance many times each week, at seniors’ residences during the day and even for some special evenings, and at the largest city malls on weekends and evenings. While I knew I would not be able to fit in as many performances as some, I was looking so forward to the larger ones I’d signed up for. Last Saturday, downtown, was my first. Ready in full costume I joined this group of women I love so much. I don’t know if there is a word to properly describe this feeling. It’s a sense of being together, of being surrounded with joy, of moving together to the music we feel deep in our toes, and of knowing we, every single one of us, have all of us to count on. Not only on the dance floor, but in life. It’s remarkable really. I simply love standing in ready position, looking around at my fellow dancers, catching eyes, and smiling. I wish everyone could feel it.
Such a little thing.
As we wrapped up that performance and Jim and I headed back to our parked car, I could feel the second toe on my right foot talking to me. That was unusual for me. I have plenty of foot pain due to arthritis, but this was new. I was so glad to get home and out of my boots, boots I’d worn without incident all last summer. I mentioned that my toe felt broken, but quickly added that I also knew that was impossible, it must just have been getting used to performing again. Compared to the joy I’d had dancing, this was such a little thing.
The next day we were set to dance again. Thinking I’d outsmart my foot, I put on a very well-worn pair of boots, the kind where the leather is so soft they feel like slippers. While this felt great driving, and walking to our performance location, about half-way through the performance I decided that the soft upper may not have been worth the lack of support in the sole. Luckily, the music and movement took me away, and it wasn’t until heading to the car again that I really felt that little toe.
Such a little thing, but goodness how loud it could talk.
I sensibly chose to pamper that foot for the rest of the day and the next, after all I didn’t want to miss out on Tuesday’s hike. Monday night I wasn’t so sure it would happen, but on Tuesday morning when I put on my sturdy hiking boot, my toe felt fine. Almost perfectly fine. The hike was fantastic. It was shorter than usual, but just being in the silent forest with our little group of friends was, as always, so good for me. It’s just walking in the woods, but I’m grateful for every step we take together.
Such a little thing.
Arriving home my foot felt so good I felt I could dance again that evening. Again, I loved it. Again, my second toe did not. This time I knew what I likely had already known. I happened to have an appointment for a regular visit to the foot specialist and she confirmed the toe was broken. I understand fully this will mend in time. I know that in the big scheme of life it’s nothing to despair. And yet, it’s still disappointing that such a little thing is going to weasel its way into so many upcoming ideas I had for this season.
This week, one of our hiking friends, Lynne, welcomed a new granddaughter to our world. She is beautiful, and precious. She’s filled their family with love.
She is such a little thing.
Our friends Susan and Darryl stopped by this week to drop off a beautiful arrangement of greenery. In it is a little bird. When Ben and Andy arrived for the day on Friday, they both noticed it immediately. Both stopped and stared at that little bird. Ben said, ‘Oh, look at the little bird, Gramma! It’s beautiful.’ Then they both sat on the fireplace hearth and gently stroked its soft feathers. They came back to it time and again during the day.
Such a little thing.
This Christmas season is made up of little things. Many are wonderful little things: Christmas concerts, lights in the neighbourhood, special baked treats evoking memories of Christmases past, visits with friends, gatherings with family, carols heard and sung, and games played together. There are compliments given and smiles exchanged. All these little things help create the joy and wonder of the season.
But there can also be things that we might do and say that can hurt others too. Most often we don’t mean the hurt, we simply act and speak without thinking about our impact. These too are such little things.
Little things matter. Let’s watch the little things this season. Let’s minimize the ones that cause hurt and pain, and maximize those bringing joy and wonder. After all, this season exists because of one little baby.
Such a little thing.
May your heart find many little things to fill it this Christmas season. I will take the next couple of weeks off to celebrate the season with my family.
My inquiry for you this week is, ‘Right now, what is the most important little thing?’
Elizabeth is a certified professional Leadership Coach, and the owner of Critchley Coaching. She is the founder and president of the Canadian charity, RDL Building Hope Society. She works with corporations, non-profits and the public sector, providing leadership coaching. She creates and facilitates custom workshops for all sizes of groups and has expertise in facilitating Strategic Plans for organizations. Contact Elizabeth to learn how to notice and appreciate the little things.
Some of the girls dance many times each week, at seniors’ residences during the day and even for some special evenings, and at the largest city malls on weekends and evenings. While I knew I would not be able to fit in as many performances as some, I was looking so forward to the larger ones I’d signed up for. Last Saturday, downtown, was my first. Ready in full costume I joined this group of women I love so much. I don’t know if there is a word to properly describe this feeling. It’s a sense of being together, of being surrounded with joy, of moving together to the music we feel deep in our toes, and of knowing we, every single one of us, have all of us to count on. Not only on the dance floor, but in life. It’s remarkable really. I simply love standing in ready position, looking around at my fellow dancers, catching eyes, and smiling. I wish everyone could feel it.
Such a little thing.
As we wrapped up that performance and Jim and I headed back to our parked car, I could feel the second toe on my right foot talking to me. That was unusual for me. I have plenty of foot pain due to arthritis, but this was new. I was so glad to get home and out of my boots, boots I’d worn without incident all last summer. I mentioned that my toe felt broken, but quickly added that I also knew that was impossible, it must just have been getting used to performing again. Compared to the joy I’d had dancing, this was such a little thing.
The next day we were set to dance again. Thinking I’d outsmart my foot, I put on a very well-worn pair of boots, the kind where the leather is so soft they feel like slippers. While this felt great driving, and walking to our performance location, about half-way through the performance I decided that the soft upper may not have been worth the lack of support in the sole. Luckily, the music and movement took me away, and it wasn’t until heading to the car again that I really felt that little toe.
Such a little thing, but goodness how loud it could talk.
I sensibly chose to pamper that foot for the rest of the day and the next, after all I didn’t want to miss out on Tuesday’s hike. Monday night I wasn’t so sure it would happen, but on Tuesday morning when I put on my sturdy hiking boot, my toe felt fine. Almost perfectly fine. The hike was fantastic. It was shorter than usual, but just being in the silent forest with our little group of friends was, as always, so good for me. It’s just walking in the woods, but I’m grateful for every step we take together.
Such a little thing.
Arriving home my foot felt so good I felt I could dance again that evening. Again, I loved it. Again, my second toe did not. This time I knew what I likely had already known. I happened to have an appointment for a regular visit to the foot specialist and she confirmed the toe was broken. I understand fully this will mend in time. I know that in the big scheme of life it’s nothing to despair. And yet, it’s still disappointing that such a little thing is going to weasel its way into so many upcoming ideas I had for this season.
This week, one of our hiking friends, Lynne, welcomed a new granddaughter to our world. She is beautiful, and precious. She’s filled their family with love.
She is such a little thing.
Our friends Susan and Darryl stopped by this week to drop off a beautiful arrangement of greenery. In it is a little bird. When Ben and Andy arrived for the day on Friday, they both noticed it immediately. Both stopped and stared at that little bird. Ben said, ‘Oh, look at the little bird, Gramma! It’s beautiful.’ Then they both sat on the fireplace hearth and gently stroked its soft feathers. They came back to it time and again during the day.
Such a little thing.
This Christmas season is made up of little things. Many are wonderful little things: Christmas concerts, lights in the neighbourhood, special baked treats evoking memories of Christmases past, visits with friends, gatherings with family, carols heard and sung, and games played together. There are compliments given and smiles exchanged. All these little things help create the joy and wonder of the season.
But there can also be things that we might do and say that can hurt others too. Most often we don’t mean the hurt, we simply act and speak without thinking about our impact. These too are such little things.
Little things matter. Let’s watch the little things this season. Let’s minimize the ones that cause hurt and pain, and maximize those bringing joy and wonder. After all, this season exists because of one little baby.
Such a little thing.
May your heart find many little things to fill it this Christmas season. I will take the next couple of weeks off to celebrate the season with my family.
My inquiry for you this week is, ‘Right now, what is the most important little thing?’
Elizabeth is a certified professional Leadership Coach, and the owner of Critchley Coaching. She is the founder and president of the Canadian charity, RDL Building Hope Society. She works with corporations, non-profits and the public sector, providing leadership coaching. She creates and facilitates custom workshops for all sizes of groups and has expertise in facilitating Strategic Plans for organizations. Contact Elizabeth to learn how to notice and appreciate the little things.
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