There are two kinds of small lives out there in the world.
The first is a life based on doing dumb shit. Like a life that is so self serving, so insane, so tedious that it doesn’t matter. Lives like this don’t understand that everyone’s personality is expressed through what they do. That their obsession isn’t a good growing one but a cancer. Their thoughts have become their enemy and they are doomed to think smaller and smaller; not in a cool artistic way. This small life could be seen with micromanagers, stalkers, and those who lack real purpose in their life.
The other small life is the artistic one, the simple one, the one that flourishes in its place. That small life is growing into something amazing. It is becoming a work of beauty because it doesn’t force it’s way but becomes the way. I know fluffy words but that is how it works. When an artist dedicates themselves to their craft, fewer things matter- the work, the mood, the mental stimulation- the ego finds its joy in accomplishment not self indulgence. Purpose drives the growth in the darkest hours and blooms in the lightest.