Wednesday, July 22, 2026

Learning to Walk

 

My granddaughter is learning to walk.

She was in her playroom, surrounded by toys, small chairs, and pieces of furniture she could use to pull herself up. She moved carefully from one support to another, preparing herself for what seemed like it might finally be the moment.

Then came the smile.

It was big, enthusiastic, and full of confidence. That smile made me believe this was it. She was going to stand on her own, put one foot in front of the other, and walk across the room.

She stood, took a shaky step, and fell.

For a second, her face showed complete surprise, as though the floor had betrayed her. But the surprise disappeared almost immediately. Within moments, she was reaching for the furniture and going right back into perseverance mode.

Everyone in the room encouraged her. We smiled, clapped, called her name, and celebrated every attempt. She did not need much convincing.

She was ready to try again.

One of the greatest lessons on resilience does not come from a CEO, an elite athlete, or a leadership expert.

It comes from a one-year-old learning to walk.




Failure Before Fear

A child pulls herself up, takes a shaky step, loses her balance, and falls. Then she repeats the process again and again. There is no embarrassment or self-doubt. She does not sit among the toys and conclude, “Maybe walking just isn’t for me.” She does not compare her first steps to people who have been walking for decades. She watches, imitates, reaches, falls, and learns.

Slowly, almost without anyone noticing, the impossible becomes ordinary.

As adults, we often reverse the process.

We fail once and begin questioning our ability. We struggle with something new and assume the struggle means we are not equipped for it. We compare ourselves to people who have been “walking” for years and forget that they once stumbled too.

  • The toddler treats the fall as information.
  • The adult often treats it as a verdict.
  • A toddler falls and instinctively asks, “How do I try again?”
  • An adult falls and often asks, “What is wrong with me?”

One question leads to adjustment – the other leads to shame.

Failure Is Not Always a Stop Sign

There are times when failure should cause us to reconsider our direction. Some strategies do not work, and wisdom requires discernment. But failure is not automatically evidence that we should stop. Sometimes it means we are attempting something difficult. Sometimes it means we are developing a capability we do not yet possess.

Sometimes it simply means we are learning.

No engineer learns excellence without rework. No leader learns to lead without making mistakes. No athlete builds endurance without discovering limits.

Formation is rarely clean – it often looks like standing, stepping, wobbling, falling, and getting back up.

Encouragement Matters

My granddaughter was not learning alone.

Everyone in the room encouraged her. We were not criticizing the fall, analyzing her technique, or comparing her to other children. We were celebrating the effort and creating an environment where she felt safe enough to keep trying.

The best leaders do the same.

They do not prevent every mistake or remove every obstacle. They stay close enough to support, wise enough to encourage, and patient enough to let someone take the next step.

Leadership is not carrying people forever - it is creating a place where they feel safe enough to learn.

The Courage to Be a Beginner

One of the hardest things about adulthood is giving ourselves permission to be beginners. We like competence. We like knowing what we are doing. We like appearing capable.

But every meaningful new chapter requires some return to awkwardness—a new role, a new relationship, a new discipline, a new skill, or a new calling. We cannot learn to walk while protecting ourselves from every fall.

Growth requires humility and the willingness to take the uncertain step before we know exactly how it will turn out.

Faith often works the same way. We are rarely given a complete map. More often, we are invited to take the next faithful step.

Sometimes we wobble. Sometimes we fall. Grace meets us there too.

Keep Getting Up

The next time you fall short of a goal, miss a commitment, or struggle with a new challenge, remember the toddler in the playroom.

Do not confuse falling with failing.

Do not compare your first steps with someone else’s practiced stride.

Do not make a permanent judgment based on a temporary stumble.

No one learns to walk without falling.

No leader learns to lead without making mistakes.

No engineer learns excellence without rework.

The people we admire are rarely the ones who never fell.

They are the ones who kept getting back up.

Keep getting up.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Learning to Walk

  My granddaughter is learning to walk. She was in her playroom, surrounded by toys, small chairs, and pieces of furniture she could use to ...