Hiren Deliwala
By Hiren Deliwala
At Second Innings, our bi-weekly thinking group of like-minded couples, we meet to explore ideas that challenge us to grow emotionally, intellectually, and spiritually. A few weeks ago, we took up a book that’s simple in its message but profound in its impact: Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff… and It’s All Small Stuff by Dr. Richard Carlson. What followed was a rich, personal, and surprisingly relatable conversation about what “small stuff” really means—and how hard it is, sometimes, not to sweat it.
The core idea of the book is easy to understand: Don’t let the little things in life ruin your peace. But when we unpacked it together, we quickly realized that the definition of “small stuff” is incredibly subjective. One of us shared how making the bed each morning or having stuff on the countertop is a small thing to him, easily overlooked. But to his partner, it’s a big deal, almost symbolic of order and care. On the other hand, he gets worked up over planning vacations, needing everything to be figured out in advance, while his partner is perfectly fine with figuring things out spontaneously. What’s small to one person can feel big to another, which is especially true for couples.
There was also a lot of good-natured couples’ banter throughout the session — some of us (mostly me) tried using the book as a philosophical escape route from household chores. The basic argument was that I’m not skipping the dishes — I’m focusing on higher things. It met the same result as it usually does at home: it didn’t go anywhere. Apparently, not sweating the small stuff does not mean someone else magically folds the laundry.
That brought us to an important discovery and realization. Carlson’s message isn’t about ignoring life or avoiding responsibilities. It’s not a free pass to be careless or passive. Instead, it’s about how we hold these small things — what emotional weight we give them, and whether we allow them to disturb our peace. One line from the book talks about control: “When you let go of your need to control everything, you open yourself up to peace and calm.” That’s easier said than done, especially when you’re the one caught in the middle of something that feels big.
Many of us reflected on how easy it is to stay calm when something inconvenient happens to someone else. A canceled flight or a missed deadline? You might tell a friend, “Don’t worry about it, these things happen.” But when it happens to you, the mind goes to a different place altogether. The stress, the blame, the analysis, all takes over. And in that moment, the idea that “it’s all small stuff” feels far from true. In my experience, that signal from the brain — the one that says “relax, this is not a big deal” — just doesn’t arrive.
We also wrestled with a deeper question: does this philosophy promote a kind of apathy or lack of discipline? If we decide not to stress over unmade beds or missed meetings, are we just giving ourselves an excuse not to care? We discovered a thoughtful insight: it’s not about ignoring the small things, it’s about not letting them control us. We can still choose to make the bed, plan the trip, show up on time—not because we’re anxious, but because we value those actions. Anxiety is optional. The discipline can still be present, but without the emotional drama dragging us down.
Another quote from the book stood out: “Ask yourself the question, ‘Will this matter a year from now?’” It’s a simple but powerful question that reframes the situation. If the answer is no, then maybe it’s not worth sacrificing your peace over. And even if it will matter a year from now, maybe the better question is: what’s the most peaceful and effective way I can deal with it right now?
Looking back, many of us could recall times when we thought the world was ending—career setbacks, failed projects, personal disappointments. In the moment, those felt like the defining crises of our lives. But now, in hindsight, they seem far less significant. I have been laid off, demoted, and seen projects fall apart. At the time, each event felt like a disaster. But now? Those experiences barely register as important, and certainly not worth the sleepless nights and anxiety they caused. My dad always says, “Kyon si badi baat hai?” (What was the big deal?). It’s a question many of us could relate to.
In the end, we agreed to disagree on a lot of things—mostly around what husbands should do versus what husbands actually do. But we did find common ground on one key idea: attitude and mindset matters. We can still make the bed, plan the trip, fix the project, or have that difficult conversation—but if we can do it without drama, silent resentment, or internal dialogue about giving kurbani (sacrificing), we’re halfway there. The goal isn’t to float through life dodging dirty laundry, it’s to deal with life’s messiness without turning every inconvenience into a crisis.
The book’s message is not about avoiding life or floating above responsibilities. It’s about engaging fully, but lightly—and I love that part, “lightly.” We and the world could do a better job laughing about it. It’s about choosing peace over drama, calm over chaos. Carlson reminds us gently but firmly: “It’s all small stuff.” And the more we believe that the more we can live fully— without being ruled by the small stuff that was never worth our energy to begin with.
Special thanks to my wife Komal and Second Innings group: Anand, Tejal, Deven, Aparna, Gautam, Urvi, Sanjay and Usha for your contributions on this topic.
Hiren Deliwala is a Charlotte-based overthinker, closet philosopher, and avid board gamer. He writes about everyday life, Indian upbringing, and finding humor in the chaos. When not philosophizing over chai, he’s usually losing arguments to his wife and, shockingly, learning from them. Contact: hcdeliwala@gmail.com
