Celebrate the milestones
If I weren’t deliberately looking, I would’ve missed them. I would’ve chalked them up- once again- as another item checked off my list. And likely, I would have just moved right on to the next item.
But not this time.
This time I’m going to take a minute.
While we’re willing to pat ourselves on the back for the big ticket accomplishments…
-the dream job
-running a marathon
-a finished renovation
we tend to brush over the milestones it takes to get there-
-the initial email
-the first mile
-the next swing
likely because those steps are just pieces, or expectations, of the bigger picture. Of course we would do them, they’re part of the job, they’re just what had to be done. Why wouldn’t we do it?
But the days we manage to put both feet on the ground and stand up out of bed are equally as valuable as the moment we sign the impossible deal.
Both days matter.
We are equally valuable on both days.
We are worthy and deserving on both days.
That’s easy to forget.
That’s how I almost missed that in the past four months I’ve had 14 milestones.
14 seemingly small achievements that may not hold much worth on paper and definitely aren’t complete, but none the less significant— for me- on this leg of the journey.
Some are personal, some professional.
Some are tangible, most are not.
I’ve not only used a nail gun, I fucking own one. Which feels empowering as hell.
Yet, I’m still learning that empowerment isn’t only built on what I’ve perceived as strength — there’s duplicity.
Anatomically, the body is continually working in opposition: every action has an equal and opposite reaction, right?
If we only used muscles that propel us forward, we’d fall over.
Opposition equals stability.
So why do we forget that the opposition is necessary in emotion too?
Strength and confidence require vulnerability.
Gratitude balances fear.
Intellect and creativity stabilize surrender.
And yet, while I acknowledge growth in confidence, vulnerability continues to be my Achilles heel.
Hence the falling face first.
For years my feelings remained protected behind their stone wall. Then the first cracks came-allowing them to seep out-
but I could protectively press my hand against my chest and corral them back to safety if I felt it justified (read: always).
Now- though- they’re guarded by what feels like a colander…
I press my hands to whisper no, not now, I’m not ready yet. But they laugh and dodge my hand and find another way out.
I’ve recently thought it was better when I was numb.
The stone wall feels more comfortable than tears randomly falling and blurring my vision-
The wall was protective.
The wall was suffocating.
Preventing myself the ability to feel pain, I also restricted myself from the depths of laughter and vitality.
Life is a series of peaks and what we euphemistically call valleys- though they often feel more like an uncharted abyss.
Most often, though, we find ourselves on a plateau which is less about mediocracy and more about a moment to rest before completing the task.
And paying closer attention, I’m captivated by things unfinished.
Seemingly over night my magnolia trees are opening. My azalea bush is blossoming. They’re growing… they’re reclaiming their space… they’re thriving.
They aren’t waiting for permission.
They simply know… it’s time.
Celebrating the milestones isn’t the end of the journey, it’s taking a moment
to pause,
to breathe,
to acknowledge the work in progress.
I am a work in progress.
We don’t strive to live a life well worked. It’s meant to be lived.
Checking the boxes is helpful.
Checking the heart is essential.
Celebrating the milestones is honoring the equal and opposite reaction: embracing the the effort and recharging for what’s ahead.
This part of my journey is nowhere near over. And I’m not holding space to fear that I’m jinxing it. I’m showing up. And if it falls to shit I’ll show up again.
And again.
And it may mean a million more milestones before I reach the peak. But that’s also a million more opportunities to celebrate the adventure along the way.
