I don’t know about you, but there are times I’m in the middle of what seems like it should be a simple project and I find myself simply stymied. My best efforts yield nothing more than additional annoyance at best because I cannot figure out the solution. In those moments, I know it’s best to walk away, but, even at my wise age of 58, I don’t always do what’s best and pretty much manage only to ramp up my frustration with the project and my inability to finish it. It is difficult to admit the path is blocked and I cannot find my way, I cannot make my way to the place I intended. Even so, I know I need to hit pause and come back later.
Last night, I watched each of my teenagers experience similar moments around pursuits they typically tend to enjoy. While neither reached that brink of deep frustration, there was definitely that sense of not being able to complete the task at hand. What I witnessed from each of them, however, was a willingness to take a couple of moments, a couple of deep breaths in order to consider things, and, then, a decision to walk away. In that moment, they demonstrated a wisdom I don’t always exhibit, and I have to admit how impressed I was by each of them.
Because it was pretty late in the evening, their choice meant they had to put their projects away until today — for one, it was a new 125-piece wooden puzzle, the kind where the pieces are carved into fun shapes related to the puzzle’s subject; for the other, it was an attempt to design her own Procreate drawing program brush to create dragon scales so she won’t have draw them individually by hand for each new dragon she creates on her iPad. They each recognized they were not going to finish what they started and yet they opted to set their work aside, even if it wasn’t their first choice to do so.
We have had moments like these in the past when they, like me, have been unwilling to quit, to lay aside their efforts in order to reassess and try again at another time. Those times have led to some form of power struggle or stand off wherein I try to convince them they need the break and they dig in their stubborn heels (they are the apples to my apple tree, after all), hoping to persuade me to let them continue on and figure something out, whatever the something happens to be. These are not my favorite kinds of exchanges with my teenagers, mainly because I understand their desire to complete the project and conquer the challenge before them. Of course, like me, they understand the more frustrated or annoyed or angry they get about something, the less likely it is they will be able to do the thing. Their brains are no longer in a learning space.
That is why I was so impressed with these two remarkable young women last night, and am even more so this afternoon. I love seeing the way they are growing in their ability to know when to call it quits and knowing that such a choice in no way indicates failure or missing the mark. Instead, it demonstrates an important ability to be kind and gracious with themselves.
And this afternoon, each has tackled the task that last night seemed elusive to them. Now, the 125-piece wooden puzzle sits completed on our dining room table, a testament to the 14-year-old’s puzzle prowess and mastery. Her walking away last night allowed her to return this afternoon and to enjoy the hobby that tends to bring her joy. As for my 17-year-old, she disappeared to her room earlier today and emerged not long ago to display her successful efforts—dragon scales painted in smooth, easy strokes filling the iPad screen. Even more, she also showed off the brush efforts that were not as successful and I wonder if she saw in that moment how like Thomas Edison she was, having tried and fallen short and learning and tweaking her way to success.
Restraint is not an easy characteristic to adopt, especially in the creative process and in things we supposedly enjoy. I know because I have been there more often than I care to admit. But that’s why I also recognize how important a step each teenager demonstrated last night in choosing to acknowledge their need for a break, to walk away. And I could not be more proud of each of them for that and for their successes today. I look forward to seeing the ways these kinds of moments benefit them as they continue along their paths and I am thrilled to have a front row seat to all of their success.