There’s a saying that movement builds confidence. That it makes us stronger, braver, more certain of who we are. And many days, that’s true. But not every day.
The other day, while taking my daily POTD (Picture of the Day), something I’ve done almost every day since coming to Canada, I walked out into the snow and stood in the middle of a wide, open space. Surrounded by nothing but white and sky, I suddenly felt incredibly small. Not inspired. Not powerful. Just small. I took the photo mostly to capture the feeling. In the image, I’m just a tiny figure in a huge, quiet landscape. You can see me, but I am clearly not the center of it. The world is bigger. The space is bigger. I am just part of it.
And I realized something. Physical Literacy isn’t always about feeling strong. Sometimes it’s about learning how to stand in a space that feels bigger than you.
Kids feel this all the time. The first time they walk into a gym. The first time they step onto the ice. The first time they enter a competition venue filled with noise, lights, and people they don’t know. In that moment, they don’t feel confident. They feel small. Exposed. Unsure of where they fit.
But they stay.
They move anyway. They try. They take a few steps, a few runs, a few swings. And slowly, the space that once felt overwhelming starts to feel familiar.
That’s Physical Literacy.
It’s not just learning how to run faster or jump higher. It’s learning how to exist in your body in different spaces. Learning how to adapt to your environment. Learning how to be uncomfortable without leaving.
In the North, we know what that feels like. We move through deep snow, strong winds, dark winters, and wide open places that can make anyone feel very small. We don’t conquer these conditions. We learn to live and move within them.
And sometimes, movement doesn’t make you feel big. Sometimes it reminds you how tiny you are in a much larger world. But that’s not a weakness. There’s something grounding about it. You don’t have to carry everything. You don’t have to control everything. You can just stand there, breathe, and be part of it.
That day, standing alone in the snow, I didn’t feel motivated. I didn’t feel like I was having some big, meaningful moment. I just felt honest. And maybe that’s part of physical literacy too. Not every moment needs to be inspiring. Some moments are simply about being present in the space you’re in.
And here’s the part that stays with me. Even though I looked tiny in the photo, you could still find me right away. Small, yes. But not invisible.
That’s how it is for many of our young people. They step into spaces where they feel small. But they are seen. By a coach. A teacher. A teammate. A parent in the stands. And over time, that feeling of being small turns into something else. Not because the space gets smaller, but because they start to feel like they belong in it.
Physical Literacy isn’t just about raising athletes. It’s about raising people who learn how to move through spaces that feel big, uncertain, and sometimes overwhelming, and still stay.
Not every step feels strong. Not every moment feels confident. But each time we show up, we leave footprints. And slowly, those footprints start to feel like a path.