When I think of tenacity, I think of the lizard that I tried to catch as a child and who then decided to return the favor by biting my finger. Lizard eyes stared at me as they held on tight, not really hurting (once I got over the initial panic) but also impossible to dislodge. You wanted me, buddy, now I'm hangin' on. After a moment, I set my hand (and the attached lizard) down gently on the grass and waited, my gaze slightly averted. The lizard eventually agreed to the truce and ran off to continue their scaly business elsewhere.
It's a funny memory, but an interesting thought to ponder. While tenacity is simply defined as persistence or determination, in my own mind I also add a layer of unnecessary effort to my understanding of it. The lizard didn't need to keep hold of my finger - they had no way of knowing, but a quick nip or simply putting all of their wriggly effort into escape would have been enough for me to let them go. But it became a battle of wills instead.
But while I mentally chide that innocent creature, I also do the same thing. I approach tasks with grim determination, and stick with them past the point of needing a break. I had a conversation the other day about what energizes us and the other person said something extremely insightful. "I like to feel like I've accomplished something. But I set myself up for feeling like a failure when I try to go ten percent past my limit, thinking I'll just muscle through and find that extra ten percent somewhere."
A tree that eventually cracks a boulder did not set out thinking I'm gonna bust this rock up. It started as a seed in a crevice, then it reached for the light and for water. And as it pursued those two aims, inch by slow inch, even solid stone couldn't withstand it. A better approach to a problem is not to get bogged down in the obstacles or to pregauge my own ability inaccurately, but to focus on the light and the slow growth, until even the insurmountable is overcome.
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