My friend Leane died from complications during heart surgery 7 years ago. Her daughter was not yet one. Leane and I met while in grad school and she knew from a young age she had limited time here. Consequently, staring ahead meant seizing the day, appreciating each little thing, and living for the moment. Leane was not reckless; but she lived, and took care of herself and those she loved. She succeeded in her professional and personal endeavors.

Leane experienced life from a view many of us don't see, can't see - a view that is not expansive, but rather, quite narrow. And this end point grounded my friend to continually be present, patient, and full of trust.

Sometimes when I stare ahead I literally get ahead of myself. I stare too far beyond and become overwhelmed with boundless possibilities. Everything looks blurry and reaching, and the unknown future jostles my next step. Maybe with such a sentence, a limited life span, I would be able to tighten my gaze and center myself in the present moment. Of course, why do I expect that I will live so long anyway?

This month, I am challenging myself (and you) to do one small thing. Instead of piling a monstrous undertaking onto myself and my circumstance, and then abandoning ship when I can't follow through, I choose an attainable, close-up goal. I choose a honed-in view, something I can see and almost reach.

The year Leane died my world was already beginning its undoing. I was unsettled, raising babies, and commuting far into the city. I was running my own business. I was drinking too much in order to cope. My husband and I were fighting and struggling. I knew I needed to change something but acknowledging all the pieces falling apart at once was too overwhelming. I wasn't ready.

I couldn't accept the massive and far reaching changes that I have since implemented and integrated into my life, little by little. At the time, I started small. I signed up for yoga. My small town had just opened a studio, and I bought a pass. I showed up with my mat and I breathed. That was my only undertaking, to breathe for the entire hour and a half. After attending classes for a while, I set my alarm for 20 minutes earlier than normal and began to practice meditation. I had no idea what I was doing - of course, I googled, "How to Meditate" and watched a few videos. Mostly, I sat in silence in the comfy chair I had purchased from a thrift store. I waited anxiously for a miracle. Actually, everything got much worse before it got better - but thank God I had my mindful practices in place for when I really needed them.

Doing one small thing CAN change your life. The greatest part is, you don't have to know where the new thing will lead you. Looking back, yoga and meditation brought me closer to myself and to my intuition. So a few years later, when I really needed to trust myself, I was able to do so. Life often knows what we need before we do. Our intuition knows, even when we don't.

My small thing lately has been drinking a glass of water upon waking, before I have my coffee. For some reason this is much harder than it appears. Halfway through my first cup of coffee I am often yelling at myself, "Shoot! You forgot the glass of water!" But I go easy. I try again the next day. This change has already accomplished a few things:
1 - It reminds me that change is hard, but I can do it. With continued practice and dedication, the change will become natural.
2 - I have the opportunity to practice being at peace. I begin my day from a place of centered truth rather than perfectionism. When I drink the water, I savor it. I recognize that I am doing good by my body, and that truth motivates me to continue, rather than my desire to be perfect.

What is one small thing you can do for now? What do you need? Do you need to eliminate something from your body? Do you need to add a glass of water? Do you need to try an earlier bedtime or a new route on your morning walk? What do you need? Keep the thing small, and then wait. Let the change guide you. Watch in wonderment as your one small thing creates larger ripples, and eventually entire shifts in course you hadn't even considered.

As the holidays approach, allow yourself one small thing. The world is yours to savor.