Like Oprah and many of my colleagues, I love a good aha moment. You can see it on someone’s face: that moment when eyes widen, dots are connected and something that’s been baffling for years suddenly makes perfect sense. In my personal and professional experience, I’ve found that these moments often lead to more compassion. There’s something about deep understanding that melts away judgment for both self and others. I live for these moments.
But oftentimes, what comes both before and after a good aha moment is pretty unsexy work. There’s an analogy I sometimes share with clients: You know the movie The Karate Kid? Picture Daniel, the Ralph Macchio character, who’s excited to learn karate from Mr. Miyagi. But first thing Mr. Miyagi does is hand him a big wet sponge to wash his car. “Left hand, wax on. Right hand, wax off. Don’t forget to breathe,” he tells Daniel.
Of course, Daniel protests. He wants to learn karate, not wash windows all day! But spoiler: turns out these small mundane repetitive acts are the foundational skills to be badass at karate, at least in the movies.
Lately I’ve been thinking of the phrase, “small is big,” which I learned from one of my mentors Hala Khouri, who learned the idea from one of her teachers Peter Levine, PhD. It’s easy to underestimate the power of small. As a nutrition therapist and yoga teacher specializing in eating disorders, this could look like so many things: eating breakfast after a night of bingeing; taking one deep breath; feeling your feet on the ground during the chaos of family dinner; not going on the next wellness diet. I’m still often surprised by the healing power of simply more time not dieting and eating regularly and adequately in restoring body trust.
For me right now, wax on, wax off looks like feeling my seat in the chair and feet on the floor several times a day, returning to the present in front of me. I’ve also been thinking of this teaching that Parker Palmer shared during an On Being podcast interview:
“Greg Ellison, my mentor who’s half my age — you know that I have many of those — Greg Ellison says that his grandmother taught him that while he can’t change the whole world, he can change what’s within three feet or so at every moment of his life… And we can do that at every moment. And he hands people at his workshops a tape measure, a yard tape measure, and he says, “Just carry this with you, and at any given moment stretch it out, either literally or in your imagination. See what you might change for the better with the people you’re with, the situation you’re in, the writing you’re doing, etc., etc. I’ve come increasingly to live by that. Because, Krista, that goes in my journal of small successes, when I can do that a few times a day: ‘Oh, I hit the three-foot mark, and that’s good.'”
I can’t save the world but I can do my part to better what’s within three feet in front of me. I can take a walk with a friend who’s wanting to process some hard news. I can be kind to the person checking out my groceries. I can sit down to a satisfying lunch and take a real break. I can put the phone away. I can read a book to my kids, hug them and smell their hair. Small is big. It might just be enough to allow our systems to shift out of fight-flight or freeze and be present.
It’s tempting to dismiss small acts. The thought this isn’t enough, I should be doing more just might be a sign you’re onto your version of wax on, wax off. So you keep practicing and then one day, you realize the cookies have been sitting in the pantry without stress or drama. Or you’re driving home after dinner with friends, and you realize you’re feeling good about the time together instead of feeling disconnected worrying about food. And then, as you’re going about your day –walking the dog, admiring the peonies, ordering coffee, whatever — you look around and realize life isn’t in black and white anymore but full, vivid color.
