“Curses!” he shouted.
“I’m just so unlucky” continued my seven-year-old.
He had lost the game of table football with his younger brother. Our five-year-old had been spinning the foosball handles wildly. Barely attempting to actually play. It had been too much to compete with really. The whole thing was a matter of chance if anything.
Not the first time my eldest had mentioned this ‘bad’ luck. Perhaps the fifth time I had heard him say it. Trivial, one might think. It bothers me though. I often talk about the importance of narratives. I’m a strong believer we make our own luck in this life.
Look at the world – doesn’t he know he won a birth lottery to not be born into war, famine, or grinding poverty?
The problem with excellence
His problem is that he wants to be excellent at everything he tries. It seems to him that excellence is found in moments of trying things. Which produces frustration. Of competing and being found wanting. Or simply not winning.
However, excellence isn’t found in a moment. It is the result compounding decisions over months and years. Peak performance perceived in an instant belittles the effort and discipline one needs to achieve such heights.
Life isn’t about peak experiences anyway. Life is found in the day-to-day. The room-tidying, the meal cooking, the tending to sick family members. One might call it service. Life completely without peaks is possibly not desirable but could be fine. As long as other things are in place to make it worthwhile.
I can’t be too hard on the boy. I myself was a cynic for most of my younger years. I never liked my physical form and constantly compared myself to others. Often frustrated at not being sporty or having any natural talent.
Piano player extraordinaire
This same son’s school music report graded him good in two areas and excellent in three others. I was astounded at that. Not because I didn’t think he had the musical ability, but because I was never considered excellent at anything growing up.
My older brother made it to grade 8 piano. I tried the keyboard, the drums, the oboe, and the violin. No good at any. I should mention the patience and persistence of my own parents. Dropping me off at music lessons time and time again to no avail.
Physically too, I ended up in the cross-country team due to not being able to get into the squads for the competitive sports. That playground line up against the wall to be picked for teams always left me standing till the last. Eventually, I stopped lining up… I must have been very bright then to make up for the deficits? Sadly I wasn’t top of the class either.
What to do with this situation
But things have worked out for me over thirty and more years of life beyond childhood. And I believe strongly they will continue to work out for me. There is a growing amount of research that shows those who believe they have free will are more accountable and responsible than people who think that all decisions are predetermined. So how can I parent my talented, intelligent offspring into believing that things will work out for him?
By showing, rather than telling. That’s how. I must be seen to persist at things I struggle with to demonstrate the value of staying positive and not giving up.
I will probably never be an excellent kickboxer or weightlifter but it’s the regular training that counts. I may never be fluent in Spanish or Chinese, but still have the aim to learn them to the best of my ability. I’ve even given up social media channels to focus on my physique and the language learning for the next six months.
Precious little life to guide and lead
In a much younger day of age, I used to have a joke about leadership. I made the claim I ran a three-word leadership course: the three words? Lead by example.
Simpler times perhaps but it seems more pertinent now. After all, I can only guide my son, I can’t make decisions for him. Nor can I control anything about the world at large he will find himself in, in just a matter of years.
Being the most persistent version of myself and focusing on what improves my life may be the best I can do. Who knows. Perhaps I’ll achieve excellence in something myself one day.