The win at age 12

Sometimes things that you don’t expect to surprise you, will surprise you. At age 12 there was a contest for book reports. Sounds unusual. Because it was. An english book report contest for the whole city. We were asked to also do something creative for the book reports. I did a collage.

I won, amongst others, most probably due to that collage. That’s how I remember it, anyway. It was the end of sixth grade and the transition to middle school. Summer. Everyone was ecstatic, and I was being told about the win. I was shocked, because I didn’t expect that. I din’t win that much beforehand, not that I applied to contests proactively or something, but it was a pleasant surprise.

The win was casually introduced, which made it even more confusing. I remember flipping through the pages of all the winners, and I felt novelty and achievement, being part of something larger. Even though it was not a winning at the oscars. But I remember this win to this day, and I’m almost 27.

It’s been, pfft, 15 years since then, almost. It was not something grand such as a wedding or a birthday. It was as casual as taking a breathe. That’s how it felt, really. But that whole notion, that good things come when you least expect it, is an idea so beautiful and its’ outcomes so rewarding. Like a tree growing more and more as time passes by, without spurting all at once.

You should not make a 250% effort. With no effort at all, by doing something for fun or for self expression, you can receive outstanding results. 12 is an age of entering teenage hood. An age of transition. Those transitions in life, those new beginnings, are real achievements in and of themselves.

Moving to a new place that brings with it novel opportunities. Starting a new soul project. Those are things that include one action, or one decision, but affect and ripple throughout life.

Returning to that contest, I think about it, and about the time when it occurred, as the transition from childhood to teenage hood. From non achievement to a gain. From naivety to matureness. I think of that time as pure bliss.

6 graders were coming together, singing “brothers, brothers, brothers brothers brothers, happiness, happiness, happiness happiness happiness” and leaving greetings in the memory books, writing things like “don’t ever change.”

Whenever someone thinks about their childhood, he remembers it, a lot of the time, as heaven. As a safe haven. Of course that wasn’t the case. This is not entirely how things occured. Anger, anxiety, abandonment, disappointments. Being bullied.

Pain that other children might not understand, because they haven’t experienced the same things. But small moments like this, at age 12, or at any age, can help you remember that life’s worth living. Sounds manneristic, but it isn’t. A hug. A gift. Someone’s praise. Someone’s “thank you”.

Those are things that accumulate, and when they do, they can contribute to your wellbeing greatly. Beautifully. Those are the things you’re grateful for. The little things. Because small gifts like these are magic. They are medicines, and when you notice them, you’ll see how plentiful they are. And then you’ll see that life’s a gift.

Step by step, you look behind and you’ve walked 10,000 steps already without noticing. However authentically and bold and daring, or fearful and hasty. However small of a step some steps were. And you look behind, remember where you begun, and go “whoo! I did it!”.

How’s that related to the contest? Try to remember contests you’ve won and achievements you’ve made. Those were steps. And this was one of my steps. And my road’s been freaking incredible thus far. I hope yours is, too, whichever part you are on your road.