About Small Hinges

I’m not a writer by nature.
I’m a thinker.

I have an almost constant drive to learn, make sense of things, and cut through chaos.

When I come across a principle that changes how I see the world or how I live my life, there’s something deeply unsettling about not sharing it.

Teaching and coaching run deep in me. My kids know it well enough that they decided their own children would call me “Coach.”

I’ve always been drawn to principles — the quiet, underlying ideas that explain why things work the way they do.

Natural laws. Patterns.

The kinds of insights that apply across money, relationships, faith, health, and life itself.

Over time, I’ve noticed something simple but powerful: when you build your life on sound principles and stack them thoughtfully, something meaningful begins to form.

Not perfection. Not certainty.

But stability. Direction. A sense of order where there once felt like chaos.

Principles are something you can count on. They’re an invisible force that brings a level of predictability to an otherwise chaotic world.

Discovering a new principle has always felt a bit like Christmas morning to me — a quiet excitement that changes how everything fits together.

Small Hinges exists as a place to capture those ideas.

These are not finished essays or polished conclusions. They’re observations. Reflections. Things I don’t want to lose. Sometimes they come from experience. Sometimes from conversation. Sometimes from noticing the same pattern repeat itself across different areas of life.

I write them down here to give them space — not to persuade, perform, or present something finished.

I believe most change doesn’t happen through dramatic moments. It happens quietly.

Small hinges open big doors. Large ships are steered by small rudders. Small decisions, repeated over time, compound into something much bigger than they first appear.

A shift in how you see something.
A clearer way to relate to yourself.
A principle that, once understood, changes how you move forward.

Life doesn’t suddenly become easy when you understand principles. Things still break. Plans still change. The ground can still feel unstable at times.

But principles give you something solid to stand on — a way to make order out of chaos, and a foundation where there once felt like quicksand.

This canvas isn’t about mastering life.
It’s about noticing what works.

It’s about becoming more intentional.
More grounded.
More aligned.

If something here resonates, you’re welcome to sit with it.
If not, it can pass by.

Either way, these notes are simply part of the journey — a record of small hinges that quietly shape the process of becoming you.

–Carl Woolston