Mindful Growth

Do you ever have a song pop into your head when you least expect it? I get that little explosion of memory, and sometimes, along with the song, I’ll suddenly think of someone I haven’t seen in years or recall a memory I couldn’t conjure up on demand if I tried.

That happened to me last week, but instead of a song, it was a book: Everything I Needed to Know I Learned in Kindergarten.

The title struck me when I first heard it back in university, a time when I thought I was really learning the important stuff — getting ‘ready’ for adulting. The book seemed a bit cheeky, maybe even ridiculous. Surely, we outgrow those childish notions as we become wise responsible adults, right?

Lately, I’ve come to see the truth in it.

Growing up in my family, the pursuit of education was everything. We were always asked what we wanted to be and what subjects we liked. I had answers ready, and they were genuine: Gym class. Language Arts. Recess.

And oddly enough, those three ‘subjects’ have quietly shaped my life ever since:

• Gym Class Movement has always mattered. I’ve had a running phase, a yoga phase, and a weightlifting phase. These days, I just like to sweat, challenge myself, and feel strong. I think I’ll always have a gym-class mentality.
  

• Language Arts Reading and writing were my thing and still are. I lead book clubs, devour everything from mythology to self-improvement, and feel like reading is gym class for the mind. Storytelling, both consuming and creating it, grounds me.
  

• RecessI love to play. I like to gather people, make connections, laugh, and let go. Whether it's games, walks, or unstructured time with friends, the most meaningful bonding happens when things are casual.
  

I’ve grown. I’ve changed. I make better decisions about my health, time, and people. But I’ve also stayed the same in the ways that matter.

And maybe that’s the point.

You don’t always have to change to grow. Sometimes, real growth comes from honoring who you’ve always been. It turns out that everything I needed to know was planted back in kindergarten. I just had to live enough to recognize it.

Written by: Maria Petruccelli