Big Grief . Small Joys

A joy fuelled exchange began when I shared a reel on Instagram of a mini pizza placed on a tiny white kitchen island with a wee stainless steel oven in my Instagram stories.

During the arduous years after the death of a friend, my father and my grandmother in short succession, my search for small joys became part of my reshaping. Although necessary for a time —sloth vibes and the floor is lava, my small joy forage was a little more uplifting than the days when I lay frozen on the couch, sadness coursing through my veins—a fine balance.

My small joys hunt became a practice and still is. It offered a glimmer of what my new life could be, the one without my friend, father and grandmother in it, the one where friendships got rearranged, some becoming strangers, even ghosts, but also one where connections sprang from the common thread, "I know this pain too." A walk by the ocean, a candle lit on my altar, a meal shared with good humans, my weekly flower subscription in the summer months. What did I not expect? All things miniatures fall blissfully into that category—tact on sharing it with someone else? Life gets less bleak when enjoying an obscure niche with someone equally as jazzed about a tiny couch cushion or a micro croissant.

A joy fuelled exchange began when I shared a reel on Instagram of a mini pizza placed on a tiny white kitchen island with a wee stainless steel oven in my Instagram stories.

Annie replied, "I fucking love miniatures." and then sent me links to her favourite miniatures page, Tiny House Calls, which is mainly interior decor in miniature houses. It did not disappoint.

I replied, "OMG."

Annie "Can you even handle it!? So stylish, so small."

Annie and I have known each other via Instagram for years. She founded Our Loss, a grief education platform. Her dad died in 2017, and mine in 2019. We sparked a grief-ship, part of the dead dad club, and outwardly grieving humans sharing our stories and trying to shift our death and grief-phobic culture into one that is supportive of grievers, at the very least, die trying.

She and I often and gleefully exchange posts of mini loaves getting buttered by a wee knife, tinny tea cups and saucers, all things MINI! We lose our damn minds as the dopamine and other neurotransmitters that don't make us hate life are released into our bloodstream.

Recently, I sent her a YouTube clip of a hamster eating a mini burrito. (Do enjoy)

My curious mind decided to take it one step further to find out why people enjoy small things, and here's what I found on the Marvling Bros LTD article “Why Miniature Things Make Us Happy”

• Cuteness psychology - Amanda Levison says that cuteness psychology revolves around the idea that we find items cute that require care from us. This leads to us being more attracted to small objects, not always in a way that we feed an instinctual reason to nurture the thing but because they make us feel a general feeling of positivity.

• Small things give us a sense of control and power - small items are usually non-threatening, making us feel powerful. Small things can create confidence, ya for micro decor. 

• A sense of play and childlike wonder - miniature things may remind us of our childhood, and subconsciously associate all tiny objects with happy feelings and comfort.

• Tiny detailing in miniature objects catches our attention - Our brains are known to be drawn to immense amounts of detailing because we are captivated by it. Miniature items are usually compact and therefore filled with lots of detailing within a small space. This attracts us to small items even more because we are drawn to touching and viewing items that hold much information in a small space. 

It's hard to see outside your grief when you're in the depths of it. It feels like you are living in a vortex for the first year. For many of us with compounded grief, trauma and secondary losses, it takes even more time to be with and process what life will be now that someone we love has died, the toll it takes on our body, the relationships severed while we are getting our head above water, or whatever other loss people face. There are plenty in our lifetime. It's ongoing, and although we are adaptive, it's still bloody hard. In that, we can't forget small joys.

We can't live a full life without knowing grief. Loving others requires us to live a resilient life once they are gone. It's a lot to ask. You may have to live a completely different one than you had planned. It may be filled with sorrow but also has room for joy, eventually. We can have joy and grief; we don't have to choose just one. We can also find people who get it, who want to grow around each other's losses. Don't judge your pleasure; we need to survive our grief but also, don't pretend your grief isn't there. Too much joy-seeking without grief-tending will backfire. Life is bittersweet. Life is the little things so that we can be with big things.

Small joy logged- miniatures shared with friends.

For your viewing cuteness pleasure