Capable. But only when it's comfortable.

My wife and I sat through parent-teacher interviews this afternoon.

Both these kids are doing well. No bombshells. No dramatic reveals. Mostly confirmation of things we already knew - which, honestly, is its own kind of interesting. But we'll come back to that.

In the meantime, two moments from the afternoon stayed with me. And I think they're worth unpacking.

Kid 1: The moving goalpost
One of our kids had described themselves in their self-reflection report as "Great" in a couple of learning areas. Their teacher's response? "So modest… 😜 but not untrue."

We smiled. Confidence earned, not performed. A nice thing to hear as a parent. But then, on the drive home, they asked what the teacher had said. We shared. And their immediate response was: "Well, if I compare myself to the other kids in the class, I am great at those things."

And so, naturally, I pushed back…

"Sure. But you also wrote in that same report that you're bad at maths. And you're actually doing fine. According to the overall standard, you're performing well. So what's going on?"

The penny dropped - slowly - that their measuring stick wasn't fixed. It shifted depending on the situation. When the comparison flattered them, they leaned in. When it didn't, they discounted themselves.

I shared something I'd picked up recently:  "Comparison is for inspiration, not defamation [even against yourself]."

"I'm great" because I'm better than some others.
"I'm bad at maths" - because someone else is better than me. 

Some may praise that as self-awareness. I see it as a moving goalpost.
And, when the reference point is external, the picture is always distorted.

And here's the more salient point: I see this exact pattern in the professionals I work with. Genuine strengths get discounted because someone in the room seems stronger. Mediocre performance in a comfortable area gets inflated because the comparison is favourable.

The lens is borrowed, so the view is never quite accurate.

Kid 2: Training wheels and the stretch zone
The other one's feedback was different: Capable learner, engaged and confident when the work feels manageable. But the moment something tips into genuinely difficult territory - "This is too hard" - they disengage. Shut down. Wait for the discomfort to pass.

The teacher wasn't alarmed. But she named it clearly.

And so did we, on the drive home. We reminded this child of something that happened not too long ago. They were completely comfortable - excelling, even - riding their bike with training wheels on. Fast. Confident. Happy.

And then we suggested removing the training wheels.

Absolutely not. Too hard. Too uncertain. Too uncomfortable.

But with a little encouragement and a little repetition, they got there. Not only competent - confident. Now they don't even think about it.

For them, the discomfort wasn't the obstacle. It was the doorway.

And here's what hit me sitting in that classroom: the stretch zone they were avoiding at school was no different from the training wheels moment. The capability was already there. What was missing was the willingness to be temporarily bad at something on the way to being good at it.

The part that stayed with me.

At the end of both conversations, my wife and I looked at each other and said almost simultaneously: "We didn't learn anything we didn't already know."
And that, too, is worth sitting with. Because confirmation without action is just expensive validation.

We knew Kid 1 used comparison as a measuring stick. We knew Kid 2 struggled with the messy middle of learning. The question was never whether we knew. The question is always what we do with the knowing.

And, holding up the mirror - I'm not just talking about my kids.

Final thought
So here are the questions I'm pondering over this evening and I'd encourage you to do the same:

• Where am I using comparison as my measuring stick - and is it giving me an accurate picture, or a convenient one?

• Where in my life (including work, family, community, relationships, faith) am I sitting comfortably with the training wheels on… because the thought of removing them feels like too much?

• And what do I already know about myself that I haven't yet decided to act on?

Because capable isn't the question. Comfortable is.

And sometimes, your Next Step isn't a giant leap forward. It's just the willingness to be a little bit wobbly for a moment - knowing what's on the other side of it.

Go on. Take the Next (wobbly) Step.