Why We Don’t Need to Be Rescued or Fixed
A one-year-old, some pokey grass, and a reminder we all need
Last weekend, I was exploring the world with my one-year-old grand-nephew.
He’s just learning to walk—still wobbly, still figuring out how the world works (and how his legs work). At one point, he sat down in the grass, and I could tell he didn’t like it. It must’ve felt pokey or unfamiliar under his hands. He wanted to get back up, but didn’t want to touch the ground to push himself. I saw him struggle. I saw the frustration build.
And so, like any loving adult with a beating heart, I helped him up.
But the moment I did, something clicked. I realized:
He didn’t actually need my help.
Sure, he was uncomfortable. Sure, he hadn’t figured it out yet.
But he would have.
He was perfectly equipped to deal with it.
That tiny challenge was the perfect invitation for him to discover his own capacity.
By stepping in too soon, I robbed him of that moment.
We’re Built for the Grass
This moment stuck with me—because we don’t grow out of that dynamic.
Not really.
Most of us, as adults, still treat struggle like something to be avoided at all costs. We treat discomfort as a sign that something is wrong. We assume frustration means we’re stuck. And we’re constantly trying to help each other out of these moments—soothe the frustration, smooth over the struggle, escape the pokey grass of life as fast as possible.
But here’s what I saw more clearly that day:
The discomfort isn’t the enemy.
The challenge isn’t the problem.
We are designed to meet challenge.
We are built to figure things out.
The frustration my grand-nephew felt wasn’t there to stop him—it was there to call forth his creativity, his problem-solving, his persistence. It was the exact moment his system was doing what it’s wired to do: engage with the problem and find a way forward.
The uncomfortable part wasn’t sitting in the grass.
The uncomfortable part was figuring out how to move through it.
And that’s exactly what he was made for.
We Come from Strong Stock
Let’s not forget: we’re descendants of a long line of people who survived storms, famines, wars, and harsh winters. People who lost everything and started over—sometimes more than once. People who crossed oceans with nothing but hope and a compass. People who rebuilt, adapted, endured.
You and I were built to figure stuff out.
Our nervous systems are flexible. Our minds are creative. Our emotions, no matter how intense, pass.
We are not fragile—just sometimes forgetful.
It’s not that we need to learn resilience.
We need to remember that we are made of it.
But Just to Be Clear…
This isn’t about glorifying struggle.
I’m not saying, “Let him suffer—it’ll make him stronger.”
I’m saying this: he already has what he needs to meet the challenge.
Not because the world will always be soft, but because he is equipped for when it’s not.
The frustration he felt wasn’t the problem.
It was the natural, necessary tension that invites discovery, creativity, and growth.
It was his system working exactly as it should.
The outside world doesn’t install resilience like an upgrade.
It doesn’t arrive through hardship, failure, or challenge.
It’s built-in—before, during, and after whatever life throws our way.
What hardship sometimes does is reveal what’s been there all along.
But it doesn’t create it.
That’s why I didn’t really need to step in and rescue him from that tiny frustration.
Not because I wanted him to struggle…
…but because I trust what’s already inside him.
You Were Built for This
The truth is—we are designed to bounce back.
Not because we’re tough. Not because we’ve been hardened by life.
But because it’s how we’re made.
Our bodies heal. Our minds clear. Our hearts settle.
We are self-righting, self-correcting, self-renewing creatures.
It’s not something we have to earn or build.
It’s not something that only arrives after enough struggle.
It’s always there—beneath the noise, beneath the story, beneath the momentary wobble.
We don’t need to be rescued.
We need to be reminded.
So the next time life feels challenging—when the path isn’t clear, when the answer isn’t obvious, when you feel stuck in the “pokey grass” of your own moment—ask yourself:
Is this really the moment I need to be saved from?
Or is this the moment that’s inviting me to remember that I can handle it?
You know the answer.
Because you were built for this.
Author’s Note
A little irony here: developing this piece was my own version of sitting in the grass.
The idea came quickly—but the clarity didn’t. I felt the frustration of not quite getting there, the temptation to rush through it, to smooth it over, to escape the discomfort of uncertainty.
Which, of course, is exactly the thing I was writing about.
The struggle wasn’t the problem.
It was the invitation.
We really are built for this.