A couple of summers ago, a friend of mine brought her kids over for a playdate.  We enjoyed the summer weather and caught up on life while watching the kids play outside.  Her girls being cheerleaders, needed to show off their skills, so after a short while, we hear: 

“titi, look at my cartwheel… I am learning how to do a back handspring too.” 

When the youngest of the girls, Jen, chimed in

 “titi, look at mine… I can do a round-off and almost a handstand,” and within just a few minutes, the sisters were in full cheer practice on my lawn.  Jen, the youngest, had not mastered the stability of a handstand, but the entire night she kept practicing even after we went inside.  Countless times we heard her slam to the floor, numerous times her mother said, “Jen enough, you’re going to get hurt,” But she refused to stop, and I refuse to give up believing in her.

Her sisters and my boys would try to get her to play, but she simply said 

“hold on; I almost got it after this one.”

She never played that night, nor did she achieve her handstand; instead, she went home with bruised legs and a determined heart. 

A couple of years later, she chose to sign up for gymnastics to better her cheerleading skills. She was successful at improving her skills to cheer. They even recruited her to be on the team and compete.  This girl has more drive and resilience than I see in adults.

She was willing to take the bruises, make a fool out of herself in front of others, keep at it day in and out no matter how uncomfortable things got for her.  Comfort breeds complacency. Suppose you want to achieve great things; you need to get comfortable being uncomfortable. It’s in that discomfort that we discover what we are made of and grow.