From time to time, size matters. Like when you sidle up to the counter of your favorite fast food restaurant and they ask you what size you want. Your diet minded self wants to say small, but your “I love the way I look and could care less about the newest slim down craze or being heart healthy” can’t get the word out. So you say “super sized” or “large” or “the biggest one you’ve got.”
Size matters when it comes to pairing up with a mate. Maybe. Sometimes it does. That’s a conversation we’ll leave alone for today.
It also matters if you’re part of the #TinyHouseNation. Something I’ve only recently learned about. I’m a little slow to the party, but that’s okay. I couldn’t live in a house that small. I’m not a hoarder by any means and I’m fine with not filling up on stuff, I just really need my space. Can you say claustrophobic?
There is one place though where size doesn’t matter. You can be ten feet tall or weigh four hundred pounds and still be beach size small.
I’m not talking about fitting into a size zero swim suit. I’m talking about the size a person feels when she stands on the sandy shores of a beach. Which beach? It doesn’t matter. I’ve stood on several and watched as the waves pummeled against the shore and it’s the same wherever I go.
When I stand on the edge of the beach, the water lapping against my ankles (it scares me to go too deep into the water), I feel small. Tiny House Nation small. Miniscule.
And that’s when the perspective on life changes just a bit. Or perhaps it comes more into focus.
Out there, gazing into the sunset or watching dolphins make their way across the horizon, is when you realize you’re not a big fish in a little pond. No, it’s the other way around. You’re a small fish. A guppy in the ocean of life. The world is out there in all its massiveness and you’re standing there, a tiny print on the sand of shore.
I’ll admit when I’m out there, I get distracted. There are those moments when I wonder if I’ve eaten too much before tugging on that tankini. Or where I’ll go on the next trip I can’t wait to plan. Sometimes I think about what’s going to be for dinner or worry about the activities I left undone on my desk before taking this trip.
But even with those wandering thoughts, the one thing I’m sure to think about even if for only a minute, is how small I am in the grand scheme of things.
Will I have an impact on those in my life? What will my legacy be? How can one person, who’s small to begin with, make a difference in the lives of those around me? Have I lived enough in my lifetime? Will I have regrets in the end? What is the purpose of being here?
Does that ever happen to you? When you take that beloved trip to the beach (whichever one you’ve traveled to) what floats across your mind like seaweed on the waves? Do you find contentment there? Is it a place you want to live someday? Or do you already?
Whatever beach you’ve happened upon, consider that for a moment. Your role in the big world. The impact you can have on someone you’ve crossed paths with. The legacy you’ll leave for your children or grandchildren or the neighbor kid next door.
And while you’re there, forget about the little things in life that people get trapped up in. Like the size of your swimsuit or the person who walks by looking like she’s walked off the pages of a magazine. Or the people in the beach house next door who look like they have it all together in life and are living in a house bigger than yours.
Because when it comes down to it, those are the things that don’t matter. Everyone has their struggles. Someone’s house is always going to be bigger than yours. Or nicer than yours. Or closer to the beach than yours is. Don’t get caught up in keeping up with the Jones.
Focus on you. Your family. Your trip. Your mission in life. When you’re at the beach, deep down, everyone is the same size on the inside.