Little things make a big difference when combatting overwhelm

A couple of weeks ago, I was on the road with Jan, chasing trains for a film project and it made me reflect on the uplifting power of noticing little things.

I write about this a lot. Maybe it’s too much? Or maybe I just need constant reminders that little things are important and helpful when the world feels too big and hopeless. Yes, let’s go with the latter. 

We were in a remote pocket of BC for this trip. I want to call it northern BC but actually it’s probably more like western central. I think. Well, you decide: for a fun activity, Google ‘Blue River, BC.’

Several dozen kilometres away from this place is the Alberta border. The landscape is similar to what we left in the Okanagan: forested hillsides, snow, and endless fog (with the notable exception that here, the mountains were decidedly bigger and more mountain-y). And yet, despite the fact that we haven’t left BC, we may as well be in a different world altogether.

I should stop here and note that this adventure was fun, in the way that seeing new places is always fun. They’re exciting and pique my curiosity. Going anywhere beyond the boundaries of our home places helps us broaden our perspectives.

And, frankly, BC never fails to amaze me with its big beauty. It feels BIG out here: the rivers are big, the mountains are big, and the hills are big. It’s all so rich for the eyes. I feel expansive.

But this adventure was not without its challenges: weird, long days standing in the cold, waiting for something to happen. The slight panic when a train came rushing down the tracks, whooshing past us, so loud and impressive and forceful…and us, the film crew, willingly putting ourselves out there with cameras and tripods and clipboards glued to our hands. Other oddities: forgotten meals, subsiding on trail mix and Baby Bels. Frozen extremities. Catching up on other work at the end of the day, when all we want to do is sleep.

The hardest challenge of all, though: dealing with humanity and the world while trying to live out our values.

Travel is hard on values. Well, it is and it isn’t. Let’s see if I can untangle this.

When is travel not hard?

Travel isn’t hard when you’re dedicated to a cause and steadfast in your resolve. It helps when your surroundings give you a boost, but it’s not always necessary. You might adhere here to a certain diet and stick with it on the road, even if that means eating butter and salad for a week. 🤷🏼‍♀️ Regardless, travel isn’t hard when the little things feel easy, ever-present, a constant.

Or, you might be like us and our stance against single-use coffee cups on this trip. In the past, we might forget our reusable mugs altogether (I know, I know, how could I?) or worse: accidentally forget to wash them and then, rather than wipe them clean with a towel, opt for a fresh, single-use paper cup. (Once again, I know. Who even am I?) But here we are. We’re human.

On this trip, however, I decided we would put more effort into BYOM(ug). So, I commanded that we (Jan, me, and Jan’s second cameraman, Jamie) bring our coffee mugs. Out of the five days on the road and approximately 30 coffees consumed at that time, we had a 99% success rate. Booyah!

Machine magic

Another pause for a moment of fawning over a newfangled coffee device I caught sight of at a humble gas station in Kamloops, BC. The gas station was full of your usual, standard fare and I fully expected that the coffee would be the same as it always is: tired, stale, and thin (it was, after all, 1 in the afternoon…expectations were low). 

So it was to my delight that we were presented with a machine full of whizzes and whirls and steam and gurgles. Not only was there no stale coffee, the machine actually freshly ground beans per serving and brewed it right there, into our mugs! Like a giant K-cup machine but without the K-cups.

Why is a machine so exciting? I don’t know, exactly. It’s not like it promotes reusable coffee mugs. Patrons can grab a paper cup from the stack and with a few clicks, have their fresh java ready to go. But it seems to tackle the notion of wasted coffee and beans, so maybe it’s doing something. It felt significant to me. 

The only other time I’ve seen this kind of machine was in Switzerland, of all places. So immediately, I felt very modern and European, despite the fact that we were gawking at a whirling, steaming machine in the middle of a crusty gas station.

Coffee cups. Reusables. On-demand coffee. These are small, lovely little things.

When is travel hard?

Travel becomes harder when my values come crashing into the realities of the world, realities that, for whatever reason, I don’t have to crash into very much. Living where I do, in the Central Okanagan, life tends to feel pretty good. I’m insulated. 

I have what I need, the weather is more or less consistent and not terrible (although that’s changing) and it seems like there is an abundance of choice. I have the ability to exercise my values and stand up for what I believe in. 

And, I’ll just say this right now: we always have the ability to exercise our values and stand up for what we believe in, or we should. But sometimes, it can feel hard and discouraging. Or, sometimes it’s actually not within our abilities. This feels bananas to me.

For example, exercising your values can be hard if you’re, say, someone who is committed to reducing her carbon footprint because climate change is a real downer (ahem, me). Then you decide to venture into fossil-fuel-pipeline-building territory (also me). 

This place, where we were last month, is a place where people idle their trucks in the morning, before venturing to work, regardless of the outside temperature. This place is also home to the aforementioned pipeline, being built to transport fossil fuels from Alberta to the coast of BC, where it will be put on a tanker and shipped off to foreign markets. And it’s here where there is a significant lack of choice for just about anything and life is generally perceived as hard. 

I’m in the middle of all this and looking around and feeling like my values don’t make sense here. It feels like the little things won’t ever add up to anything meaningful.

Where the synthetic rubber hits the shitty road

This is when travel is hard. My values are running into the realities of this world we live in. 

This is where we are: living in a world where, despite our best collective effort, we still rely on fossil fuels.

In order to access those fossil fuels, we also require people to work in really ridiculous conditions to build infrastructure and extract those resources, so that someone else (and eventually they, too) can benefit. In this place, a lot of people are working just to get by, or to save up enough money so they can cash out and never work again. Or maybe they’re just working because it’s a steady job with a reliable income. 

Maybe they also are committed to reducing their carbon footprint and maybe they aren’t. When I look around at these places, at all the idling cars and endless tubes of fresh, teal-coloured, pipelines ready to be buried along the highway, I feel lost and confused, like all the work I’ve been doing means fuckall in the grand scheme of things. 

And you might say, “Buck up Ryan! Stand up for what you believe in! Rah!” Or something like that.

And I’ll buck up, eventually. 

That magical magical coffee machine might help, and committing to my reusable mug. 

Or refill soap.

On refills (again)

This is why little things are so important. When we’re feeling glum and overwhelmed, Osten it’s the slightest thing that can draw us back to the surface. A hug, a kind smile. And, refill soap!

When we walked into the hotel that was to be our home for a few nights, I noticed refillable shampoo, conditioner, and body wash bottles stuck to the shower wall. They also had little individual servings of each on the bathroom counter but at least there was another option!

I was excited about this. I always get excited about this. Just as I was getting really worked up about the endless idling trucks and endless pipeline work, this little miracle dropped into my lap and I was grateful.

Big things are overwhelming

So yeah, travelling. On this trip, I’ve noticed some big things like pipelines and societal cultures that are very different from my own. And yet, we didn’t really go that far! Sometimes it feels like we have to go really far away to feel a culture shock when actually, just venturing a few hours away from home can be enough (and save on air travel emissions but I digress 😂).

When I think of these big things, I feel overwhelmed by their scale and breadth. Take the pipeline. Will we ever decide that was a bad idea and just nix the whole project? When I see it on the ground, I start to think otherwise, like, “There is no way. It will continue because nobody will be able to swallow that bitter pill of billions in sunk costs.”

Or societal culture. Will we ever stop idling cars when it’s not absolutely necessary? Is this one of those things that are embedded in the fabric of multiple generations? I feel silly even thinking about approaching some of the truck owners here to meekly ask them why they feel compelled to idle when it’s above freezing outside. Who am I to tell them what to do? I’m not having to go to work on a pipeline at 4 am when it’s freezing outside. 

Small things are encouraging

But the small things, when I notice them, make me feel a sense of possibility. Like, if a chain hotel adds refillable soap to their bathrooms, maybe we will figure this out.

I’m grateful for the ability to travel. I recognize that this is not an option for many people. And, I’m grateful for the discomfort and frustration it offers me because it makes me realize two things:

1. I live in a bubble.
2. We have a lot of work to do.

Maybe I’ll write about the pipeline some more one day, since it’s an overwhelming topic but also deeply fascinating. But for now, I wanted to focus on the little things that have made my heart a bit lighter.

I’m curious to hear your thoughts. Particularly if you travel regionally, to a place that’s just different enough from your norm that you notice it.

What do you notice when travelling that pushes against your values and how do you deal with that?