It was one of those grey Saturday mornings.
I was determined to finally clear out the spare room, a task I’d been putting off for, well, let’s say a long time.
Every time I’d previously opened the door and seen the sheer volume of stuff, old boxes, forgotten hobbies, things I "might need someday, "a wave of overwhelm would hit me, and I’d quietly close the door again, promising myself "next weekend."
This time, though, I remembered a conversation with an elderly neighbor last month.
She was an avid gardener, and her garden was always immaculate, a riot of color and life.
I’d once asked her how she managed it all, expecting some complex system or secret. She smiled and said, "Oh, dear, I don't do it all at once.
Every morning, I tend to one small patch, pull a few weeds, and water one section.
Just a little bit each day. It adds up, you see."
That memory sparked something. What if I applied her "one small patch" idea to my spare room disaster?
The Mountain in Our Minds (And Why We Get Stuck at the Bottom)
We all have these "spare rooms" in our lives, don't we?
Big goals, important projects, changes we want to make. It could be learning a new skill, improving our health, writing a book, or even mending a strained relationship.
We see the desired end result, but the path from here to there looks like an impossibly steep climb.
That feeling of being overwhelmed by the sheer size of a task is a powerful demotivator.
I know for me, and from what I’ve seen in so many others over the years, it can trigger a kind of mental paralysis.
Our brains, in a way, are trying to protect us from what feels like a monumental, perhaps even impossible, effort.
Sometimes that "inner critic" we all have chimes in, listing all the reasons we might fail or why it’s not even worth starting.
It’s a very human response.
We catastrophize the effort involved or the potential for failure, so we often choose inaction because it feels safer in the moment.
My "One Box" Experiment: A Tiny Shift with Big Implications
So, standing there that Saturday, instead of trying to conquer the whole room, I told myself: "Okay, just one box. Pick one box, go through it, and decide what to keep, toss, or donate. That’s it for today."
It felt almost laughably small compared to the chaos around me.
But because the task was so contained, so un-intimidating, I did it.
It took about twenty minutes. And when it was done, there wasn’t a dramatic transformation in the room, but there was a tiny, clear space where that box used to be.
And more importantly, there was a small, surprising feeling of… accomplishment.
The next day, I decided to tackle just one more box.
And the day after, another small section. There was no pressure, no grand declaration that I was going to clear the whole room by a set time.
It was just this quiet, almost invisible commitment to a tiny bit of progress.
What I was unknowingly tapping into is something often called the "1% principle" or "continuous improvement."
It’s the idea that small, consistent efforts, compounded over time, lead to significant results.
There’s no revolutionary overhauls; it’s about evolutionary progress.
Why Those "Small Wins" Are a VERY Big Deal
It turns out, this approach works wonders with how our brains are wired.
It disarms our natural resistance to change: Big changes can feel threatening and trigger our internal "that's too hard, I might fail" alarm bells (a pattern often seen in cognitive distortions like catastrophizing).
Small, non-threatening steps often sneak right past that resistance. I’ve learned that my brain is much more willing to cooperate with a 10-minute commitment than a 3-hour one, especially when starting something new or challenging.
It builds momentum and self-belief: Each small win, like clearing that one box, gives you a little positive feedback. This isn't just a nice feeling; it's a powerful motivator.
Researchers like Teresa Amabile at Harvard have extensively documented this "Progress Principle," showing that making meaningful progress in our work, even in small steps, is one of the most significant boosts to our motivation, emotion, and perception during a workday.
You complete a small task, you feel capable, which makes you more likely to tackle the next small task.
It leverages the power of compounding: One percent better each day doesn't sound like much. You won’t see an earth-shattering difference tomorrow or the next day.
But those tiny improvements, consistently applied, start to build on each other. Over weeks and months, the accumulated effect can be ASTOUNDING.
It’s like a tiny seed growing into a substantial tree, you don’t see the dramatic growth spurts, just the eventual, impressive result of steady, quiet development.
Bringing "Small Wins" Into Your Own Big Goals
So, if you’re facing a goal that feels overwhelming, if you’re tired of those ambitious plans that start strong but quickly fade, what if you considered this "one small patch" approach?
What’s your "spare room"? Identify one big goal or project that feels stuck or too daunting right now.
What’s your "one box"? Instead of trying to tackle the whole thing, what is the absolute smallest, most manageable first piece you could address? Make it so tiny it feels almost too easy.
Could you commit to just 5 minutes of focused effort? Read just one article related to your goal? Write just one paragraph?
Acknowledge that tiny win: When you’ve done that one small thing, take a moment. Notice it. Give yourself a little internal nod. This is CRUCIAL.
It’s you telling your brain, "Hey, we did that. That counts." This isn't about grand celebrations for tiny acts; it's about consistently reinforcing the behavior of showing up.
I used to dismiss these small efforts, thinking they weren't "enough," but I've learned that's another unhelpful story we can tell ourselves.
Every step, no matter how small, moves you forward. And forward is momentum!
The Real Transformation Isn't Just the Goal Achieved
Focusing on small wins isn't just about eventually clearing out the spare room or reaching your big goal.
It’s what happens to you in the process.
You're starting to dismantle that old narrative that you "can't stick with things" or that progress has to be a painful, heroic struggle.
You learn to trust yourself, be more patient, and find satisfaction in the consistent, quiet effort.
That spare room, by the way, eventually got cleared. Not in one exhausting weekend, but box by box, small patch by small patch.
And the feeling wasn't just relief that the mess was gone; it was a deeper sense of quiet capability.
What mountains in our lives are just waiting for us to approach them not with a giant leap, but with the simple, sustained power of one small, intentional step after another?
What’s "one box" you could tackle today?