Little things don’t have big signs on them

At sixteen, Mike Nichols’s girlfriend’s parents gave him tickets to a Broadway play that turned out to redirect the course of his life. In college, a chance interaction with a cafeteria busboy led to him attending weekly improv workshops, where he soaked up practices and principles of creativity and collaboration that turned out to define his career. At a train station, he struck up a conversation with Elaine May, beginning a friendship that led to them forming “Nichols and May,” an improv duo whose Grammy-winning comedy albums and hit Broadway shows made them a national sensation. Looking back on these and other decisive moments in his life, Nichols was struck by the deceptive nature of things—the way a seemingly minor thing can turn out to be an important thing, for instance. Or the way an apparently negative thing can turn out to be a positive thing. Or the way an initially unsuccessful thing can turn out to be a celebrated thing. “You don’t know what’s going to happen,” Nichols said. “Big things look like little things. Little things don’t have big signs on them that say, ‘This Is a Big Thing.’ They look like everything else. Disaster can reorder our lives in wonderful ways, and you just go on to the next thing.”