Big, Small It’s All Milk To Mourn

There is no sense crying over spilled milk. Unless you really wanted that milk.  Or it was the last bit of milk in the house.  Or maybe you are attached to the milk.  Okay so there are some reasons where you may cry over the milk.  Who am I to judge?  (I’m pretty sure in my early years I did cry over milk.  What can I say, I was a child.)

The point is that the milk, in the grand scheme of things, is fairly small.  And if we consider all the small things in life that we tend to get heated about, well you can start a massive fire.  Because let’s face it, we tend to find many little things to get intense and worked up about.  But why do we do that?

I’m no expert, after all I’ve only got my personal experiences to go from, so I can only speak for myself.  And I’ve come to realize that for me it’s fear.  Yep, good old fear.  Not the kind from the horror movies either.  Rather the kind that leaves you with blood turning to ice in your veins and a stomach that keeps falling further and further down.  It isn’t the little things that I’m afraid of.  It’s that big, soul crushing moment that we dread and fear.

And  I’ve come to the conclusion the way to cope with the fear, at least for myself, is to tilt at the windmills that are the small things.  That way the big stuff will think I’m crazy and leave me alone!  Or I will me to busy worked up over the little things that I will simply miss the big stuff. Ignorance and bliss after all!

Now if you will excuse me, there is a drop of milk to deal with…



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