When I was just in the 6th or 7th grade, a teacher keenly observe my passion for writing. Regular assignments would turn into a 10-15 edit writing assignment. The back and forth of notes, his red-penned cursive challenging the language I’d chosen to make my point, the frustration of an intended final draft returned subtly with notes scribbled on every page. Over time I began to crave the feedback. “Garbage” on top of one essay. I worked harder. “Okay” would satisfy me for months as I practiced improving, until finally, “Divine” was scrawled on top of a short story I wrote. As an opinion piece responding to the challenges of adolescence, I chose to unpack taboo subjects (at the time) including sexuality, drugs, religion, all pulling from my life experience in a very raw and real way. I read it aloud to the class. Kids cried. I mean, 13, 14-year-old boys and girls who had never really spoken to me before, bawled their eyes out. I kept writing. I stayed hungry.
Forming. The concept was new to me.
My creative writing teacher so elegantly stated to me that I was “Forming”. I had endured and embraced my “Storming” phase - which I could only describe as chaotic twirling under cracking lighting while struggling to find your footing - and had learned what I needed from that time and could slowly begin to “Form” into my grown self. “Norming” was next, he described, and only when I allowed the changes into my life and room for error, would I move into my “Norm.”
Interesting.
This experience left a lasting impression on me. For the next decade, I found this cycle repeated itself a few more times.
“Everything is garbage.”
“Things are actually okay right now.”
“I love my life!”
Over, and over again.
Storming. Forming. Norming.
The idea that we can spend an uncertain amount of time in each phase, but we would eventually just move to the next phase, was extremely comforting. And yes, when everything was garbage, I thought it would never end. Suddenly one day, things are okay. And you wait patiently for the other shoe to drop, and it doesn’t. You start to see the silver lining in predicaments. You see the opportunity for growth in a challenge. You laugh at the spilled milk instead of bursting into tears. Time allows progression to your “norm”. And then it just is your norm. “Not bad” becomes “good”. Good becomes great, and you become excellent.
Until you aren’t. Everything is garbage all over again, until it’s not, until it’s great again. I just love this concept; there will forever be a cycle of growth, beckoning humility and grace, and it’s either: observe and overcome, or resist and resent. Be the hero or the victim.
I find this concept so encouraging: time heals, things always work out, embrace “garbage” phases in life to move on to the good stuff. I find it so accurate and poetic I often use it in my coaching while working on lifestyle and behavior changes. Yes, suddenly training 4-5 times a week seems like garbage, until it isn’t, until you love it. Suddenly a marriage, a relationship, a work situation, a personal matter, personal health, is crap until it's not. It’s cyclical.
I’m not saying to anticipate things to go from great to garbage. But be ready for this to hit on all levels. At any point, the many components of our lives will be in any of these phases, and yes, it is all cyclical.
I hope this brings hope to anyone in a “Storming” phase, comfort to anyone in a “Forming” phase, and joy to anyone in a “Norming” phase. It works out, my friend.
I wouldn’t be the coach I am today without my mentors. Thank you to the teachers and educators out there going the extra mile for students. Things would have turned out much differently without the watchful eye of Mr. Thames. Thanks teach.