We have to be. Each of us ourselves is so small. So I don’t laugh at people when they cry at their coffee being wrong. I will tell them to stop if they get angry about it. But I can feel how much of a disappointment them being out of your favourite food is, or a rock stuck in your shoe is, or a stubbed toe is. What is puzzling is that we do not take the same joy when these little things go right for us. We should. We should enjoy each and every regular and ordinary day; that ordinary cup of coffee, that ordinary morning kiss. These are the things that must keep us going as we plug along to the grand moments. There will be those, but even if we get a lot of them, they are few and far between; we are so small. We cannot write a book in an afternoon, or build a house in a day. It is many days, and they all start — and must be carried through — on the full heart, filled up by just that ordinary cup of coffee and good morning kiss. We let our days be ruined much easier than we let them be made. Made — the very word says it — we make the choice ourselves.