Week 52: The Milestone of Showing Up

This marks the fifty-second post in this series, and it also happens to fall on my birthday. A double milestone worth pausing to celebrate.

When I began, the plan was simple: one post each week for a full year. Life, of course, happened. Weeks slipped away. There were long gaps and stretches when writing felt nearly impossible. More than once, I questioned whether I would reach this point at all.

Yet here it is. Post fifty-two. Not a perfect journey, but a real one. And perhaps that makes it even more meaningful.

Coping has taught me a similar lesson. We set intentions to meditate every day, to exercise regularly, to journal, to rest, to stay calm and grounded. Then real-life interrupts. We falter, we forget, we run out of capacity. And right now, the world around us makes it even harder and a constant stream of troubling headlines all create a sense of overwhelm. That weight seeps into daily life. Stress follows us to work, into our relationships, and even into our sleep. Sometimes simply making it through the day feels like an achievement.

This is why returning matters. Even if late, even if uneven, even if messy, the act of showing up still carries power.

What This Year of Blog Posts Taught Me

1. Progress is rarely linear
We often picture growth as a straight, upward line, each effort stacking neatly on the last. In truth, it feels much more like riding a roller coaster. There are exhilarating climbs when everything seems to click, sudden drops when momentum disappears, sharp turns that throw us off balance, and long, slow stretches where it feels like nothing is moving at all. Some seasons carry us forward with speed, while others rattle us with setbacks or even send us spiraling backward.

The important thing is not to avoid the dips or the twists because they are part of the ride. What matters is that we stay on the track, trusting that the ups and downs are all part of the same journey. Progress is measured not by a smooth ascent, but by our willingness to hold on, to stay in motion, and to keep faith that even the drops are carrying us somewhere meaningful.

2. Imperfect effort still matters
We live in a culture obsessed with streaks and flawless records. Miss one workout, skip one meditation, or fall behind on a project, and it feels like all the progress we made has vanished. But effort does not evaporate so easily. One pause does not erase the foundation we have already built.

Think of a garden. If you forget to water it for a few days, the plants do not immediately disappear. The soil still holds nutrients, the roots still remember how to grow, and with a little care, life comes back. Our habits and commitments are the same. Each attempt we make, even scattered, even inconsistent, leaves behind evidence of effort. Imperfect action is not failure. It is proof that we are still trying, still caring, still building.

3. Resilience lives in returning
Resilience is not the absence of struggle. It is not about never stumbling, never falling behind, or never losing the thread. True resilience is the decision to come back, to begin again when beginning feels hard, to try again when part of us would rather quit.

Returning requires humility. It asks us to accept that we are not as steady as we want to be. It forces us to face the shame of stopping and the discomfort of restarting. And yet, every time we choose to return, we strengthen a muscle far more important than perfection: the muscle of persistence.

4. Presence is more important than perfection
Perfection is seductive. It tells us we will finally feel calm, grounded, and worthy if we just do everything right. But perfection creates pressure. Presence creates possibility.

Presence means noticing what is true in this moment. It means paying attention to the knot in your stomach, the racing of your thoughts, the weight in your shoulders, and responding with compassion instead of criticism. Presence does not demand that you master every practice or follow every routine without fail. It’s an invitation to return to yourself through the smallest gestures, even a single breath or a pause before responding.

5. Milestones deserve celebration
Angela Davis reminds us, “Celebrate the small victories, they serve as an impetus to move forward.” Over these fifty-two posts, I’ve returned to that wisdom again and again.

We are quick to dismiss our accomplishments. We tell ourselves they don’t count because they weren’t perfect, because they took too long, because they didn’t look the way we imagined. But every milestone matters, especially the messy ones.

This fifty-second post is not evidence of a flawless record. It is evidence of persistence. It is proof that even in the midst of stress, fatigue, and doubt, I kept showing up. That is worth celebrating.

Celebration is not arrogance; it is gratitude. Gratitude for the small steps that built momentum, for the resilience that carried me through, and for the reminder that imperfect effort still leads to something real. Too often we rush past milestones, already fixated on the next goal. But pausing to celebrate is what gives us strength to continue. It honors not just the destination, but the journey and the courage it took to keep moving forward.

Finally…

Coping is not glamorous. It is not about always feeling strong or always following the plan. It is about returning, especially when the world feels uncertain, chaotic, or frightening.

The past year has not been simple. None of us are walking a straight path. And yet, here is the milestone. I’ll admit, it feels uncomfortable to call attention to it. My instinct is to downplay, to roll past, to move on without pause. But today, on my birthday, I choose differently. I choose to honor it, not because it is perfect, but because it exists. Because I showed up.

A Reflection for You
Think of an area in your life where progress has not been steady. Perhaps it is exercise, caregiving, a creative project, or a relationship. Write down three ways you did show up, even if inconsistently.

Allow yourself to feel that truth. Allow yourself to celebrate the resilience of returning. In a world that often feels overwhelming, showing up, imperfect and persistent, is more than enough.