Celebrating — Life at Lancaster Land

“Mom, I won a mustang!”

She raced into the kitchen, where I was grabbing a quick bite before the next Zoom call and her smile spanned her face from ear to ear and she had the kind of energy that was both palpable and electric. My mind was doing another kind of racing, wondering what in the heck a mustang was and what in the world she had done to win one. Please tell me a horse isn’t about to show up, but on some level I wouldn’t be surprised because let’s be honest, nothing surprises me anymore. So, I asked.

Turns out, her kindergarten mascot is a mustang, and Elsie was awarded an honor for showing up and working hard.

Showing up, working hard and celebrating. Out loud.

She was so proud, if we were on a mountaintop, she would have shouted.

At what point in our grown-up lives do we stop wanting to shout our accomplishments from mountaintops? Why do we quiet that inner voice when we really want to be celebrating out loud? And why do we reserve these feelings for the big moments, the impressive points, and not just for working hard and showing up, especially right now.

Because working hard and showing up should be something we are proud of. It’s not always easy. It’s always important. And it always should be appreciated.

Maybe next time you show up for something and you just might not want to, and you work hard even if you’re tired and don’t want to - maybe you run into the kitchen and tell somebody that you’ve won. Maybe not a mustang, but you’ve won something.

I’m going to do that - and when a big moment comes, I’m going to find that mountaintop because success, winning, shouldn’t be embarrassing and we need to stand in our own success more often, not being fearful that it might make others feel less-than. I’m guilty of this, shrugging off kudos sometimes because the spotlight feels too hot or too blinding. So a reminder to me, thanks to a hard-working five-year-old, I need to let that light shine a bit.

After my work day ended, we were snuggling on the couch and talking about her award.

Mom, how was your day?

I thought for a moment and shared with her a couple of things I was proud of.

Wow! We both had pretty great days.

Yes, we sure did. We closed that moment with a hug and a high-five.

One quick shoutout to her most fabulous kindergarten teacher - thanks for shining the light on her during a challenging year. A final lesson, I guess, is to elevate those around us, highlighting others for showing up sometimes too. It matters.