Originally shared on 7 January 2018 via TinyLetter.
Hey everyone!
January 1st happened. I hope everyone enjoyed the shift from 2017 to 2018 and got to celebrate and feel and connect with themselves and those around them. I wish that for you every week! If you did anything that felt especially meaningful, I’d love to hear about it.
The new year really began for me on Wednesday when I was watching a friend’s kid. He has no concept (yet) of “2018” and “resolutions” — you know, those concrete culturally mandated goals that seem ubiquitous when we talk about January 1st. We’re just throwing a ball around and building train tracks and making up games as we go along.
I often care for others’ children. I love it but it is also work that requires emotional dexterity, focused energy, creativity and adaptability to the unexpected (dare I say, unpredicted!): you never know when someone’s favorite food will suddenly become the grossest thing ever and be thrown with true conviction across the living room. Bonus points if it stains furniture!
But the other bonus is this: you never know when you’ll use a light-up death star beach ball to knock over plastic bowling pins arranged as subversive rule-breaking structures on a carpeted staircase in a suburban home. So, Wednesday. I’m playing with my friend’s kid and he is rocking his sentence structures. Complete noun-verb phrases with adjectives and multi-part action. And I remember that six months earlier, this kid’s verbal communication consisted of emoted words — e.g. milk! water?! drink. now? If you ever get a chance to get to know a kid and watch them develop from nonverbal to verbal communication, it is one of the most incredible things to hear. It is also a good reminder of how much we can communicate with facial expressions and body movements and primal sounds — things we still have access even after we begin using words. Talking really only adds to what we’ve been saying since the time we were born.
There is a fascinating science in childhood neurological development. Essentially, with structure and support, with nourishing food and love, children learn to talk, to walk, to read, to sing. They do this by playing, by mispronouncing words and scraping knees — and, there is a person they can go to and play with, while they are figuring out, basically, everything. Ideally, children are surrounded by people who provide the support and encouragement for them to mispronounce words and recombine sentences that make no sense and all the sense in the world.
This support is the most vital ingredient in achieving these big things that require 1000 little steps that seem impossible to break down. (Also, this!) I think about this, too, when someone wants to try something new, something beyond what they comfortably know — yoga, coding, singing, stand-up comedy. In the SheExplores episode Permission Slip, Amanda Machado reflects on how she was able to access the outdoor adventure world: she was given space to grow into becoming a hiker. Someone bought her a backpack and helped her figure out what gear and food to carry with her. Experienced hikers walked with her at first, and now she is an experienced hiker herself.
I’m not sure if there is a specific unpredict here, but one thought: Is it possible to reimagine a goal you made (either January 1st or anytime in your life) and nest it in some type of support structure? Reach out and ask a friend who is an expert. Or send an email to a mentor in your field. Or, possibly, there is a community space or meet-up group you can join.
Finding support and allowing yourself to rely on it is challenging — I know it is for me! But I also know that for nearly every big thing I’ve achieved, someone has been there for many of the little steps along the way.
For that, I feel gratitude.
xoMo