Do you remember the game "Mother, May I?" from childhood? Children line up and a leader, or Mother, says, "Everyone take three large steps forward." (Or two small steps or one huge step or whatever.)
Of course, you must ask, "Mother, May I?" The leader then gives permission or denies it to do so. But if you fail to ask, you can't go anywhere.
I frequently feel like I take three large steps backward for every small step forward. I start to feel confident in something, that maybe, just maybe, I'm getting the hang of a learning a new skill or a better way to do something, and find that I've been moving backward the entire time. It's more than discouraging.
Is it the perversities of fate that cause this? Or could it be that I've deluded myself the whole time? Or is it just that the learning curve is steeper than I thought? Or maybe a combination of all the above.
Whatever it is, I want to fall to the ground and kick my feet up and down. Pretty soon, I pick myself up (figuratively if not literally) and try again. And sometimes, I find I'm able to move one small step forward.
This I know for sure: one small step, combined with other small steps, is progress.
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