Small Needs

Small Needs: A geranium budding under the lemon tree.

Hello.

This morning, I’m reminded that in addition to essential needs, such as eating, sleeping, getting some exercise, cleaning, and so on, I also have small needs. These are things that tend to get sideswiped when the larger needs are pressing. They are often subtle, quiet things that don’t press for center stage. But this morning, they are calling for a little attention, and they just may direct my day. So instead of telling myself, no, I can do that later, I’ll try doing them first.

Under my lemon tree, a small geranium plant has nested in. It’s lush with green since the rains came in the last few weeks, but I’ve been waiting for some buds. I check on it as I water the daisy seeds I planted in empty margarine and yogurt tubs. And this morning, they are the stars of the show. Red is peaking out and with the sun spotlighting them, they may bloom before the sunset. I hope so. That’s my first small need today.

The second is to make time to remember yesterday evening when I closed the day on angst and drank a bit too much wine while playing games for hours with my sister. We laughed till we cried, mostly at absurdities, and silliness, and ironies—the kind of things we do when we are tipsy with subsurface honesty and footlooseness and wine. I melted into sleep afterwards.

And the third thing is to make time to iron cloth napkins (as if I lack time.) At the end of last summer, I bought more cloth napkins when they were on sale. It’s become an annual extravagance. I justify it by not using paper napkins or paper towels, so being spared the expense of those, I can find the cash to splurge on these cloth dainties. They work well as napkins but also are handy stand-ins for a Kleenex, for a sponge to wipe up a drip, or for a quick wipe to get the crumbs off the table before the grand opening of games. They are a token, reminding me to be conscious of climate change even now.

I don’t often think about these small things. They just blend into the background, part of the set design we usually don’t notice. But today I want to loose myself in pulling a few weeds and giving kudos to the geranium buds, and I want to remind my sister how much fun last night was, knowing she has a hard day at essential work, and I look forward to the simple task of ironing flat, square pieces of cloth that will quickly fill the laundry bin and have to be washed and ironed again. There’s something soothing about a slightly warm stack of neatly folded napkins, knowing that later, I can wad and rumple them again.

Odd things, small needs are small odd things. But I’m thankful for them. They fill in the small spaces of my life and add a bit of texture and gratitude and pleasure as I dart around the daily stats and hunt for peaceful moments—-and find ways to make them happen again.