Small

Some days I feel really small. I think about the size of the boulder that almost flattened my entire climbing class; the size of the truck that almost ran me over last night; the size of the flight of stairs I climbed on my way to school; the trees, the buildings. I look up at those rocky mountains towering over me, look up past the sky and envision my relative size compared to all that's around me. I think of how far away home is, or better yet, how far away my heart seems to feel sometimes. I say goodnight to my mother as she tucks herself into bed, and I sit at the kitchen table eating dinner because it's only 7 o'clock here. I think about Carrie, who's chatting about Saturday mornings at work when I haven't even finished Friday yet. Space, time. It's all so massive. And here I am, standing on a little speck of concrete, on my even smaller feet, twiddling my minuscule fingers and wondering what significance such a tiny creature really can have. Heck, and I'm not even as small as an ant, they must feel really small.

And yet when I look at the world around me, instead of feeling limited and irrelevant because of my size, I'm inspired. Empowered, that something as small as me can make a difference in such a ginormous world; that we aren't quantified by our size, but qualified by our capabilities, and more importantly our potential. Being small only gives me that much more room to grow and fill my place in the world.