Trying - Again

To try - that is the whole entire point.

Snow day grace — a two-hour delay, boys sleeping in, no rushing.
Tea on. Supplements taken. Five-minute energy routine.
I sat in my space to simply be.

And immediately… the inner critic arrived.

Quiet creates room for old patterns to speak and be seen — sometimes gently, other times loudly.
Stress, self-doubt, fear — familiar voices that have waited patiently for stillness.
My nervous system has been loud lately. Sleep not quite steady. Thoughts looping.

So I paused.
I tapped.
I rerouted what I could.
I asked for help.
I sat with plants.
I softened.

The night prior, I found my son’s drawing in his backpack.
The detail, color, and care grabbed me. I knew he had spent focused effort on it.

When I told him how proud I was, he said it was the worst one in the class.

My heart ached as it cracked open. I know that thought pattern.

Comparison — the same game I’m learning to loosen my grip on — already reaching for him, asking him to sit with it and me.

I told him what I believe:

Just because someone else may be further along doesn’t mean we stop trying.
Do not discredit your hard work or your “good” results.
Envy of someone else’s “great” is a sure-fire sinkhole for celebration and feeling triumphant.
It is not meant to be anything other than what you are capable of.
Your victory is playing the game and trying — whatever the life event may look like.

I wanted to hang his artwork immediately.
I couldn’t find tape, so I leaned it against my computer instead.
It deserved to be seen. I wanted him to know the swell in my heart for him in his effort and results.

It caught my eye this slow morning and made me smile.

I planted a seed, I did not fully understand until 40.
He’s 8.

Because of our chat, he will carry a different memory around his “worst” artwork in the class.
He knows I adore it.
He knows I love his trying.

Hopefully, my pride in his effort will catch fire in his chest — maybe not this time or the next.
But the germination process has already begun.

I’m not where I thought I’d be by now.
Not in all the ways I once imagined.

But I’m not where I started either.

We all face challenges in this life game.
We all have strengths and rough spots (patches).

I think our superpower comes from leaning on one another — reminding each other of our best.
Not defined by our worst or even our best,
but honored for trying.

Again and again.

Success of a finished product isn’t the only milestone.
It’s persistence.
It’s the constant practice of presence.
It’s choosing to keep going.

I am here, I will be trying again.
And again.

To my son —
and to myself —
and to you who know and believe in their own value - you are so worthy!

I see your effort.
I honor your work.

You and your work are exactly where and what they need to be right now.
Glorious in their wholesome, enough-as-is state.

I love you.
Know that.
Hold that.

— Nell