Being bigger doesn’t mean being more valuable.
For example, the largest number with a name is the Googolplexian, a “1” followed by so many zeros that Carl Sagan said it would be physically impossible to write them all down because there simply isn’t enough room in the universe. Moreover, it’s said that if you filled the universe with dust particles, the number of different combinations in which you could arrange and number these particles would be far less than a googolplexian. (Why you want to do that is a completely different question.)
It makes one’s brain hurt just thinking about it.
On a more human scale of “bigness,” I recently visited the Spruce Goose, technically the “H-4 Hercules Flying Boat,” constructed by Howard Hughes after World War II. Among other facts, I learned that this ginormous plane (which only flew once) is made of Birch, not Spruce; has piles of beach balls in its wings and belly to keep it afloat should it spring a leak; and that although it was constructed over 60 years ago, no modern plane has a larger wingspan. (There are a few that are slightly longer.)
As a sullen teen, hardly inspired by anything, I visited the Grand Canyon. Yet, even in my perennial “no big deal” mood, the grandeur of this world wonder broke through, partially due to its vastness. Large structures like the Hoover Dam or Golden Gate Bridge still take away my breath.
“Big” is impressive; there’s no way around it.
Maybe it puts us in perspective; I don’t know. Nonetheless, we are drawn to it.
However, it’s essential to understand the difference between size and value.
What we say to ourselves in our quiet spaces gives birth to actions. Life is the consequences of those events. If we wish to alter the course of our existence, to change its path, or to enjoy more the process, we must begin with the thoughts that steer it.