Recap and Reassurance

Last week, I made my case for why movement literacy is a worthy priority to foster in all our kids. The benefits are extensive—and they make sense. Movement literacy means our minds and bodies are more integrated, and that integration is a key component of what allows our species to thrive. Physical training is simply the process we engage in with our kids to help move them toward greater movement literacy.

Now, I want to pause for a moment. If I weren’t married to a physical therapist who is an incredible mother and teacher, and if I weren’t so personally invested in health and hadn’t spent years exploring physical training myself, I might feel a little intimidated at this point. Through the lens of parenting insecurity (we all have it), “physical training for kids” can sound intense, and movement literacy can feel like some lofty, complex goal.

Maybe you’re not feeling that way. Maybe you’re ready to jump right into physical training with your kids. If so, I'm thrilled that my approach hasn't put you off. But I suspect many of you feel the way I would without my good fortune in support and experience.

That's why today's post—and next week's—are all about taking the pressure off. Sit back, relax, and let those feelings of “shoulds,” measuring up, and anxiety about doing right by your kids wash away. What I want to do here is help you feel both relaxed and inspired by explaining why framing movement literacy as a priority instead of a goal leads to greater success, enjoyment, and connection with less struggle and stress.

The Power of Priorities vs Goals

The stories we tell ourselves—whether we’re aware of them or not—have more impact on our behavior than most of us want to admit. Our brains are prediction machines, constantly gathering information to support whatever narrative we're running. That’s just what brains do.

There's a powerful example of this in what educators call “asset framing.” When kids are told (explicitly or implicitly) that something's wrong with them, that's deficit framing—defining someone by their problems. When they're defined by their aspirations and contributions, that's asset framing. Kids absorb these narratives, and not surprisingly, asset framing gives them a better shot at success because they start by viewing themselves positively.

How does this relate to priorities and goals? When we set a priority, we tell ourselves a fundamentally different story than when we set a goal.

Why Priorities Work Better

The focus is on the thing itself.

When movement literacy is a priority, we engage with the act of moving, solving movement puzzles, enjoying coordination, locomotion, balance, and more. It’s about the doing, not the proving. The activity is the point.

Priorities are a direction, not a destination.

You’re not trying to “arrive.” You’re simply heading in the right direction. This means you get to enjoy where you are at each step while continuing to go where you want to go. You naturally accept your current position because there's no pressure to be somewhere else. You're on a journey, but it's about enjoying the trip, not reaching the destination.

Priorities are process-driven.

You’re not chasing outcomes. You’re immersing yourself in the process—and learning to love it. Results always come from engaging in the process, and with priorities, your entire focus gets to be on that process. You don’t waste energy trying to control what you can't control.

Priorities are personal and internal.

They’re not performative. They’re not about how things look. They speak to our true identity and have the power to shape that identity over time. Priorities are a way of coming home to ourselves and assisting our own unfolding.

Priorities are infinite.

You don’t “complete” a priority. You engage with it over time. You evolve with it. It becomes part of how you live, not just something you check off. Engaging with our priorities lets us play what Simon Sinek and James Carse call “the infinite game.”

This kind of framing takes the pressure off you—and your kids—because it’s not about achieving, performing, or “measuring up.” It’s about showing up, participating, and growing.

Where Goals Fall Short

That’s not to say goals are bad. They have their place. But in contrast:

Goals focus on external outcomes.

When movement literacy becomes a goal, it risks becoming a checklist or performance metric: hopping on one foot, mastering a sport, etc. But movement literacy is bigger than that—and also less scary when approached with the right mindset.

Goals fixate on destinations.

You expend energy trying to end up somewhere specific, which often leads to stress and frustration. You also miss the beauty and richness of the journey.

Goals split focus between process and outcome.

When people make weight loss a goal, they obsess over the scale. They worry about things beyond their control. All that really matters—and all we can control—are the inputs: nutrition, exercise, mental health, sleep. The scale is only useful for building awareness of how inputs affect your body.

Goals are tied to identity—but from the outside.

When we fail to reach a goal, we sometimes feel like we have failed. The act of setting goals also risks developing a narrow view of ourselves that may be somewhat arbitrary or discordant with who we most know ourselves to be. Priorities, on the other hand, help us align with who we are, rather than who we think we need to be.

Goals are finite.

You reach a goal… then what? Satisfaction is fleeting. If we live by goals alone, we risk becoming addicted to chasing the next thing, never feeling like we’ve done enough.

But Are Goals Bad?

Not at all. I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with setting goals. In fact, the line between a goal and a priority can get blurry. You can have broad goals or specific priorities.  Both are conceptual tools.

The key is to see them clearly—and use them wisely.

My aim here is to show how framing movement literacy as a priority might subtly, but meaningfully, shift the narrative in your family. And narratives matter. They shape the way we see ourselves, our kids, and our efforts.

What matters most is engaging with life in a way that brings out our creativity, dedication, self-compassion, self-discipline, and inherent wisdom.

Personally, I’ve found that I activate more of that “good stuff” when I stop setting rigid goals and instead focus on priorities. One of my favorite definitions of success supports this approach:

"Success is balance with priorities."

Take the Pressure Off

Here's the summary: relax! If you make movement literacy a priority and approach it with the key principles we'll discuss next week, it's going to be fun. You get to play the infinite game and give up trying to control the uncontrollable. Don't worry about where you and your kid end up—it’s going to be exactly where you're meant to be.

Priorities, like good parenting, rely on an element of faith.
Faith in ourselves, our kids, and in life itself. Have some faith—and have some fun—moving, loving, and letting go.

Resources

• Asset Framing: The Other Side of the Story
   
• "Belief clings, but faith lets go." -Alan Watts