Heartwings says, “Being grateful for small victories is better than complaining about any losses.”
I’ve read that one of the first skills a child learns is to let go. They must be born with the instinct to hold on, as any mother with long enough hair knows. It makes sense, because they need o hold onto their mothers or anything else to keep from free falling into danger. Once they learn to let go, they delight in doing it. I remember my little ones sitting in the family high chair gleefully dropping things onto the kitchen floor.
We all grow up and learn various skills that serve us until the day they don’t. I clearly remember learning to tie my shoes. My dear nurse Emily had me stand bent over my shoes until I learned to do it. I was in nursery school, aged three, perhaps almost four, depending on the time of year. Called the Woodward School, it had blue double doors. I can see them still. My finger dexterity was never to become perfect, however I did get good enough to tie laces or untangle knots, until one day I developed Parkinson’s and the dexterity dwindled.
I remember how difficult it was in first grade trying to improve my penmanship. In time I managed to learn to write at least reasonably well, until once again, Parkinson’s took over and unless I focused very carefully my handwriting would shrink more and more as I wrote a sentence. However, I did find that by printing rather than using cursive that my writing shrank less. The ability to focus and write slowly has enhanced the clarity of my handwriting, and this is something for which I am grateful. It is a small victory in the midst of abilities that without my being able to stop doing so, are beginning to fade.
I have had to give up the pride I once took in skills I had worked on and developed. Being able to do things I once took for granted as accomplishments has transmogrified into taking pride in the smaller victories I am able to manage. I had a teacher who once said, “Rather than lament that roses have thorns, be glad that thorns have roses. I remember that the roses in my father’s garden had large thorns yet they smelled wonderful. Often the roses of today have no thorns to speak of, yet they do not have much of a scent either. Still, they are lovely.
While I have lost some of the abilities of which I was once so proud, I have gained others for which I am grateful. I have become more patient because I must be, otherwise I would be all too frustrated. Being patient with myself means I am able to be more patient with others. I have also become more compassionate, and now I have more compassion for others and am more forgiving. While these could be considered small victories, they are also big steps in being more comfortable with myself and kinder, and by extension, with others as well.
May you remember to take pleasure in your personal victories no matter how small.
Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert
PS I so appreciate any comments you may have to share, or stories of your own victories. It always warms my heart to hear from readers. Thanks for sharing. Please write me at email@example.com. For more love notes, see my website at www.heartwingsandfriends.com.