Keeping relationships healthy is a win.
Helping others is a victory for you and for recipients of your generosity. The time and money you gave to charity; coaching and mentoring young people or peers; phoning a friend or acquaintance to check in - these gestures may seem small, but as someone who's been on the giving and receiving end of many acts of kindness this year, I can tell you your thoughtfulness is much appreciated. It's as palpable as sand beneath my feet.
Sticking to any exercise routine is a win. Some of my friends ran marathons during lockdown and beyond. This year, I've mostly accomplished short runs and walks with my dog. Even 30 minutes of getting my heart rate beyond sitting territory helps clear my head. Chalk up another small, daily victory.
Travelling is a victory, even if your journey remains within your region. Did you notice something different, take time to listen to birdsong, put away your devices, step beyond your routine? It's a win.
Introducing friends and family to experiences they otherwise wouldn't have is a victory. I dragged my reluctant teenagers on a family holiday to Abel Tasman National Park for three days last week to kayak the bays and walk part of the coastal track.
"Why do we have to go?" they asked for weeks before our trip. "We don't even like kayaking."
I told them it was forced family fun and our time as a trio was rapidly drawing to a close as they got older and more independent.
The lead-up to the holiday provoked a mix of nervous anticipation, wondering what I was inflicting on our family - mostly, on myself. What if the teens hated it? (oh, well). What if their whinging ruined nature's beauty? I bribed the kids with the promise of a small shopping stint in Wellington if they tolerated my outdoor fantasy with reasonably good humour.
While I can't say they were ecstatic about tramping and paddling, we all found moments of joy. Miss 16 and Master 15 fed birds they dubbed "beach chickens" (weka); my son pretended to bench press a giant piece of driftwood; he busted out a dance move or two on the track, then napped on the ground in front of a long drop while we waited for low tide so we could cross the Awaroa Inlet.
Miss 16 and I focused on keeping weka from pecking our dozing lad. A Department of Conservation worker came to clean the loo while Master 15 slept. "I don't think the water will head that way," he said. It didn't. Small victory.
While we waded the inlet, a fit-looking couple forged ahead, giving us tips on the shallowest places to cross. The water was waist-deep in some sections, with a moderate current.
Our party eventually stumbled into the Awaroa Lodge and paused for a drink. It was there the woman who was part of the fit couple recognised my voice. She's a co-worker from Tauranga who sometimes sits next to the desk I occupy when I'm in the office.
We're exploring our own backyard. Small victory.
The teens nixed the idea of a second day of kayaking, opting instead to walk 14 kilometres of the coastal track. Thanks to their advanced ages, I spent the last part of our park trip kayaking with a guide while they tramped.
I saw and heard sea lions ranging in size from pups to bulls, and paddled among eagle rays, spotted shags and white heron.
Our family last visited the park 10 years ago, when I could hardly have unleashed a then 5-year-old and 7-year-old on to the track alone (though I would've been tempted).
I managed to wake the kids at 5.30 one morning for an early flight to Wellington. Small miracle.
I lured them to Te Papa with the promise of viewing the giant squid, then let them return to the hotel so I could fall deep into the Gallipoli and immigration exhibits.
We made it home. We still like each other. Small victory.
Paulo Coelho wrote, "The great victory, which appears so simple today, was the result of a series of small victories that went unnoticed."
And so it is with 2020. Even the development of a new kind of vaccine for Covid-19, called mRNA, is the result of a series of small victories. For decades, researchers have been studying and working with mRNA vaccines. The many steps they've taken have given us a chance at protection against a deadly disease and a return to something resembling normal.
Many parts of this year felt heavy, clouded by doubt and fear. But even during grey sky days and weeks, we've collected small victories, like seed pearls on a chain of life.
What is one small victory you can claim for 2020? Email me: dawn.picken@nzme.co.nz
