Sometimes Things Don’t Go From Bad to Worse

Celebrating when things don’t go from bad to worse.

I love this small poem.  Things don’t always go perfectly, but we still get to celebrate when they don’t get worse.So, I went looking to find this poem and dedicate it to all those people and occasions where it has been true.

Sometimes by Sheenagh Pugh

Sometimes things don’t go, after all,
from bad to worse. Some years, muscadel
faces down frost; green thrives; the crops don’t fail,
sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.

A people sometimes will step back from war;
elect an honest man, decide they care
enough that they can’t leave some stranger poor.
Some men become what they were born for.

Sometimes, our best efforts do not go
amiss; sometimes, we do as we meant to.
The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow
that seemed hard frozen: may it happen for you.

Stories

Today, we completed our inaugural ten-day hybrid retreat in the Victoria Highlands, and I can say that it exceeded my expectations. Furthurmore, we already have ideas for improvement for next year.

The stories I wanted to share with you from two weeks ago are not special on the surface, but I consider them wonderfully special. Both could have been so much worse.

A Flood and a Plumber

A week ago Monday, just as we were about to leave my friend and co-facilitator’s house for the retreat centre, we discovered a flood in the laundry room. Water was streaming down the wall. We were scheduled to welcome and meet participants in only four hours, and then we would be away for ten days.

Our minds raced with worst-case scenarios: no plumber available on short notice, expensive damage, and mounting stress.

My friend quickly mopped up and laid towels, then took her dog Prisma for a short walk. When she returned, her worry had lessened thanks to a chance encounter with a neighbour—someone who rarely walked in the morning but happened to that day. He said he knew a good plumber and would help.

Before the neighbour could reach the plumber, his wife knocked on our door with news: the plumber just happened to stop by and offered to come over—his first ever unplanned visit.

The plumber arrived, inspected the problem, and immediately reassured us: “I see the problem, I can fix it, and it will be done in four hours.”

Those were relieving words. A flood is never timely, but this time it felt surprisingly fixable.

After delivering supplies to the retreat site, we returned to find the laundry room repair completed and a fair invoice waiting. How lucky was that? It could have been so much worse.

A Dark Blotch and Timely Care

Five days before, when I arrived in Victoria from Ottawa, I noticed a large dark blotch on my friend’s calf. She’d had it for two weeks with no pain or itching, not realizing its seriousness. She had tried to see a doctor but couldn’t get an appointment and assumed it might be a jellyfish sting that would fade.

Doctors are hard to reach these days, but that evening, we stopped at a pharmacy. The pharmacist took one look and said, “cellulitis.” Then added, “You need to see your doctor immediately for antibiotics.”

Against the odds, the next day she was seen by her doctor’s colleague. She left grateful—not just for the prescription, but for the doctor’s genuine care beyond routine treatment. Again, this could have been so much worse.

These two stories remind me to honor the small blessings that quietly shape our lives. Often, it is these unremarkable moments—things not getting worse, help arriving unexpectedly—that carry profound meaning and impact.

This resonates with a reflection I read from musician Nick Cave, shared in James Clear’s newsletter:

“Musician Nick Cave on the power of small actions:

“The everyday human gesture is always a heartbeat away from the miraculous.

Remember that ultimately we make things happen through our actions, way beyond our understanding or intention; that our seemingly small ordinary human acts have untold consequences; that what we do in this world means something; that we are not nothing; and that our most quotidian human actions by their nature burst the seams of our intent and spill meaningfully and radically through time and space, changing everything.

Our deeds, no matter how insignificant they may feel, are replete with meaning, and of vast consequence, and that they constantly impact upon the unfolding story of the world, whether we know it or not.”

Source: The Red Hand Files, Issue #216 (lightly edited for clarity)

By recognizing these small, everyday acts—like a timely visit from a plumber or the care of a compassionate doctor—we can appreciate how powerful even the most ordinary moments truly are.

​Notes

1:) Today was a lovely sunny day in Victoria as we said goodbye to all our lovely participants, and then unpacked and debriefed. So many new and special memories. 

2:) Thank you always for stopping by here. I appreciate every one of you who takes the time to read my musings. 

3:) A few photos from this last week. The fall leaf landed just in front of where we were walking. A reminder that everything changes and everything has beauty. The other two are Tod Inlet and the walking trail into the inlet.

4) May you have a sense of well-being with many joyful moments. Warmly, Trudy