It’s rough keeping my proclivity toward comparing in check. I watched my son in swim class, and among the many thoughts I had as he splashed and kicked and didn’t pay attention to what the other kids did–in my way of thinking in order to learn from their technique–was the abiding notion that he wasn’t where they were. He wasn’t where he could be.

If he just paid attention to their strokes, perhaps he’d be more comfortable with that foam bar. If he listened to the teacher rather than turn around to look for me through the thick glass. If he used the strengths of his classmates to gain his own strategy. If he just…

I heard myself saying to myself, “He’s doing what he needs to be doing. He’s learning how he needs to learn. He’s where he’s supposed to be.” And those are the things I need to keep saying. Perhaps I can believe enough little bits for those truths to change me.