Through the aging process, it has become clearer to me that it’s the little things in life that make a difference. I don’t recall this concept being in the frontal cortex of my brain when I was younger.

For most of my life, the thought was that bigger was better. For instance, I was never one to sit quietly and watch nature live and breathe around me. I was of the mindset that you always had to go, go, go.

For instance, when I was a child, I played hard. In the summertime I rode bikes with my friends and swam just about every day at the Marion Park pool. I wanted to do as much as possible while there was light outside. In high school, I was an active member of the marching band and for those who can recall the days when John Waite was Big Blue’s director, you know we practiced until perfection. In college, I may not have been involved in as many extra-curricular activities as I had been in while in high school, but at Mississippi State University, let’s just say I didn’t gain the dreaded freshman 15 because I walked no telling how many miles to get to all my classes — go, go, go.

As a young mother, there was always something going on, from diapers to doctors’ appointments, and of course I still wanted to keep my girly figure after giving birth, so I signed up for high-intensity aerobic classes.

When the children started leaving the nest, my go, go, go, go mentality began to include working out with weights at the gym and, to make sure I was pushing myself, there were times I even hired a trainer.

This lifestyle of working out hard to accomplish my desired outcome has remained with me up until just recently.

I have been experiencing some back issues and in deciding to address them I have been going to physical therapy.

While there, I am learning that in some instances the tiniest of moves can be more beneficial than bigger, harder exercise moves. This made me think about how the same can be applied to life.

Just the act of someone smiling at me or complimenting me can change the way my whole day goes; nothing big, just a little gesture.

In the parable of the mustard seed, I am also reminded of the little things. If you have faith as a tiny mustard seed, you can move mountains.

So little things, it seems do matter.

Terri Cowart Frazier writes features for The Vicksburg Post. She can be reached at terri.frazier@vicksburgpost.com.