The Power of Yet

I write because I don't know what I think until I read what I say. - Flannery O'Connor

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One of the most fun, eye-opening, and rewarding activities in my classroom was the ‘Power of Yet.’ It started back in the days of SDRF taking on character education at its core.  And encourgaing growth mindset was trending - and important. When Teachers Pay Teachers was an invaluable, online resource to us educators.  'Why reinvent the wheel?' was a common mantra. You could download this cute, simple ‘Power of Yet’ template for our students to ponder, complete, and decorate.  Self-reflections and classroom conversations focused on what the students were capable of and had accomplished in their young lives:  'What I can do.' And what I can't do ... yet. These ideas ranged from blowing a bubble with bubble gum - because sometimes the littlest, sweetest, cutest, most important-est feat was just that:  sitting on the counter, in front of a bathroom mirror, with bubble gum wrappers everywhere.  Innocence.  And tender determination.  To riding a two-wheel bike or a unicycle.  Writing their name in cursive.  Diving off the diving board at the local pool.  Crossing the monkey bars.  You name it!  To the more advanced in timelines like driving a car, graduating from high school, earning a million dollars!  The sky was the limit (and the theme - wink, wink).  

Every person you meet has a dream to do, a story to tell, and a lesson to teach.  - Bob Goff

The ‘Power of Yet’ makes me miss the classroom.  The innocence, determination, willingness, openness, goodness, and resilience in children.  The wonder and creativity and fun and love.  The listening and the dreaming.

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Don’t let what you’re afraid of keep you from what you were made for. - Bob Goff

I can feel it.  I am on the brink of something too. Like my former students.  Something more.  Something big.  Something bursting. A release.  As in a record, an album, a movie, a book.  But also, more like a letting go, a breaking free, a liberation.

But just not … quite … yet.

The moment before letting go is often when we grip the hardest. - Cory Muscara

To reach my ‘yet’ I need more assurance, reassurance actually, and a hell of a lot less doubt.  I could be making a mountain out of a mole hill.  I tend to be a very deep thinker. An over thinker. A careful thinker. A considerate thinker. Let's get all-the-scenarios-out thinker. Maybe people won’t really even really give a shit.  Maybe they won’t even care.  Maybe I want everyone to care and worry and think and question.  So, it’s all understandable where I am coming from.  But maybe I want people questioning me, second-guessing me; regretting how they treated me, judged me, or thought they knew me.  

"I'm fine," I say, because it's easier than explaining the weight of something I can't name.

I laugh so they don't look too closely.

I answer quickly so they don't worry.

I show up even when I'm breaking, so they don't see I'm hurting.

I've mastered the art of appearing okay.

So, if you ask how I'm doing, I'll still say, "I'm fine."

Because if I tell the truth, I might finally break.

- Anonymous

See the truth is, I strive and strive and strive.  In every.single.avenue of my life.  Ev-er-ree.Single.One.  From my outfit to packing my lunch.  To my conversations, interactions, and bedtime routines.  From my work and volunteering to relationships and acquaintances. I am super tight-lipped, careful, and particular.  I am so fearful people will see right through me.  So, I hold up.  I hold on. I hold tight.   I have uber high expectations in myself to be positive and uplifting and loving.  To always see the bright side or the lesson in the yuck.  If I let down even just a little, I know it’ll all come gushing out. And I keep loving, accepting, trying, understanding, learning, coping, and frankly, hiding.  I constantly tell myself, don’t let down or else they’ll see in.  

She had been so careful for so long.

Careful with her words. 

Careful with her desires. 

Careful with how much of herself she let show.

Careful. Careful. Careful. And then something broke.

And the carefulness broke with it.

- Victoria Erickson

I pretty much struggle emotionally all day long, but then again, don't we all?  My emotions, and therefore my fear, are both just right at the surface.  I’m afraid even with just a little inkling, a little peek, or a little awareness, I’ll seem bizarre, weird, too much, too negative, and like I dwell and can’t let go.  Who’s gonna want to be around that?  So, I suck it up.  I try really hard.  And when I can’t, I retreat.  You’ll see a hell of a lot more of that in my life now.  A whole heck of a lot more nature and nurture and walking and hiking and quiet and solitude and couching and cuddling and reading and writing.  A retreat.  Viterbo University professor, Tom Thibodeau, often references Latin roots. Latin for ‘retreat’ is ‘retrahere,’ which means ‘to draw back,’ ‘to withdraw.’  For me, a preservation.  Center myself back into some safety and protection and strength again.  

I retreat, re-center and re-energize; I mask, keep going, and hold hardcore onto hope.

I’ll get there.  It’s inching forward.  My ‘yet.’ 

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I think midlife is when the universe gently places her hand upon your shoulders, pulls you close, and whispers in your ear: I'm not screwing around. It's time. All of this pretending and performing these coping mechanisms that you've developed to protect yourself from feeling inadequate and getting hurt - has to go. Your armor is preventing you from growing into your gifts. I understand that you needed these protections when you were small. I understand that you believed your armor could help you secure all of the things you needed to feel worthy of love and belonging, but you're still searching and you're more lost than ever. Time is growing short. There are unexplored adventures ahead of you. You can't live the rest of your life worried about what other people think. You were born worthy of love and belonging. Courage and daring are coursing through you. You were made to live and love with your whole heart. It's time to show up and be seen. - Brene Brown

Balanced Rock, Devils Lake State Park WI ~ #solotrip 2026

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