Work at it like a kitten: Great advice from the feline kind

We adopted a six-week-old kitten from a couple who were moving cross-country the next day. Her ears were too big and her limbs moved as if each had its own motor that wasn’t in sync with the others. We named her Harper Lee.

After Harper became friends with the resident cat (named Pablo Honey), she would see Pablo sitting in high-up window sills or on the bathroom counter. Harper’s jealousy showed in her face. She wanted to reach these great heights. But her small, uncoordinated legs didn’t get her anywhere close.

And somehow, Harper knew just what to do about it. We humans flail around, convinced that because we can’t make it even halfway up to the window sill that it just isn’t meant to be. “Oh well, I guess I’m cut out for some other line of work,” we say, and move on, bouncing from thing to thing. Perhaps this is a blessing and a curse of the modern human: we have so many options to choose from!

Harper didn’t have the problem of too much choice. She had only one goal: to jump higher. And so she practiced. For five minutes or so at a time, but dozens of times a day, she would wrap her front legs around one side of a door frame, for stability, and launch herself as high as she could with her back legs. Over and over and over again, getting just slightly higher with each launch. Somehow, instinctually, she knew that this exercise regimen would strengthen her legs and help her reach her goals.

Before long, she could jump high enough to hook her front claws into the bathroom window sill. Then there’d be a great clatter of her back paws, clawing furiously at the wall, trying to climb up the whole way. And the first couple of times she tried this, she fell. Terribly gracelessly. But that didn’t bother her at all; she was closer than she’d ever been.

This opened up whole new worlds for her. Soon she could jump higher than Pablo, going places that we really preferred she didn’t. Kitchen counters; the kitchen table; and even our dresser tops, via the bed.

I think about this often, when considering my goals. Walking on my hands will require doing hand stands regularly. Writing a book will require writing regularly. Being able to effortlessly command computers to do my bidding requires frequent directed learning. My limbs are going to feel uncoordinated and wobbly the first time I try anything, but if I follow Harper’s example, it won’t be long before they take me to great heights. And I might fail, terribly gracelessly, but that probably means that I’m finally able to jump high enough that the failure is noteworthy.

For best results, just attempt something in small doses, five minutes at a time, but dozens of times every day.