When I got to the office that morning, being the end of the month I started by reviewing my goals and achievements for the month and in that quarter in general. I was particularly bothered about how little I have been able to achieve in such a long time in major projects. I wrote the title of each project on a separate page and listed the reasons I couldn’t do much on them. I added ways on how I can possibly do better in the new month. Even with the hope that the month has the opportunity to achieve something better I concentrated on my flaws that resulted into low achievements.
With that I walked into my son’s school to pick him. He screamed and ran to me. Unusual I thought, what’s the excitement about? “I made a surprise for you! Come and see it.” He was pulling me to hurry. For a while, I forgot my office worry to share in his excitement. He led me to his class and pointed, “see, I drew you and wrote about you. Read what I wrote”. I told a long look at the image and read what he wrote about me. I was very proud of him but beyond that I was glad he was happy with what he has done. The composition reads. “My mom’s name is Emike. My mom is twenty six years old. My mom’s best food is rice. My mom’s friend is dad. My mom’s best colour is yellow.”
He’s four years with an amazing disposition. He watched me as I read it engrossed. I tried to remember what special thing I did for my mom at that age. I was mostly moved by his excitement and confidence.
“You look beautiful in my picture. You have a yellow hand with a long hair.”
“Really? But this doesn’t look like me.” I said admiring the drawing.
“Yes. It looks like you. It’s you.” He was now almost sobbing. “…and I was thinking of you when I drew it”. That caught me.
I hugged him close my eyes were moist too. Unlike me, my son wanted me to celebrate his effort whether I felt impressed or not. He wanted me to acknowledge he’s done something great. As far as he was concerned he drew the best picture of me any one could possibly have given. I told him I loved it, I promised I would frame and keep it for him.
He taught me a lesson. While I was worried about what I could not achieve in the last quarter I ignored the fact that there were also little achievements that I should applaud myself for. No matter how bad it was I refused to see the beauty in all the messes of the failed or slow projects. Like my son I needed the attitude of “it may not look perfect but I have progressed. I am no longer where I use to be.”
What’s your picture like? Something you are not proud of? Worse than anyone can ever imagine? Don’t be too hard on yourself, there are chances to perform better if you would wear the right attitude.
See you at the top!