Look Where You Want to Go: The Magic of Small Wins

“Look where you want to go.”

I say this to my son when he’s riding his bike, attempting something a little sketchy, or trying something new.

Then, the other day, I realized how often I need that same reminder.

I had been pondering the idea of “the magic of small wins,” waiting for something inspiring to come to me. What finally came was a phrase I had been saying all along.

When you’re learning to ride a bike, it’s tempting to look down at your tire. You want to check what’s happening. You want to make sure you’re doing it right.

But if you spend the whole ride looking down, you miss what’s ahead.

I think I do a version of this in life, too.

I focus on what went wrong. Replay the awkward moment. Question whether I’m making enough progress. Sometimes I become so busy watching for mistakes that I forget to notice where I’m going—or how far I’ve already come.

And that makes small wins surprisingly easy to miss.

Making room for progress

In salsa, a small win might be getting through a basic step without looking at your feet. Feeling a signal from your partner that you didn’t understand last week.

Finding the beat again after losing it.

It might even be walking through the door when you almost talked yourself out of coming.

None of these moments needs to look impressive to someone else to matter.

Each one gives us something to build on. A little more understanding. A little more trust in ourselves. A reason to try again.

But we have to give ourselves enough room to recognize them.

If I finish a dance and think only about the turn I missed, I can overlook the connection I felt, the timing that improved, or the moment I relaxed and actually enjoyed myself.

What I pay attention to shapes how I experience my progress.

A plan needs something worth moving toward

In school, I learned to help clients set goals using MAPS: Measurable, Achievable, Positive, and Specific.

We would identify a goal, break it into smaller pieces, and decide what they could work on that day.

It made sense to me. At the time, I didn’t fully understand why following through could still be so difficult.

Then I tried applying it to my own life.

I discovered that I could have a perfectly reasonable plan and still struggle to move forward. I could understand every step without feeling connected to where those steps were taking me.

For me, something was missing: the heart and the magic

By being present and opening myself to the opportunities at hand, the coincidences, unexpected meetings, and allowing myself to follow my hunches.

An unexpected path was formed to my goal. One I could have never planned for. Yet it got me where I needed to be and at the exact perfect timing. Something I could have never planned for.

Hold the vision. Stay open to the path.

My college yoga teacher used to tell us:

“If you can’t do a move, imagine doing it perfectly.”

That advice has stayed with me.

Imagining a movement allows your body and muscles to go through the movement as though you were actually doing it.

If you are experiencing obstacles or challenges with a move or something in life, imagine doing it perfectly and before you know it what you have imagined, will be your new reality.

I’m learning to bring that same approach into the rest of my life: hold a vision of where I want to go. Imagining how I want it to end and feeling into it till it becomes real.

Some of the most meaningful progress in my life has come through opportunities, conversations, and unexpected turns I could never have planned. Looking back, I often think, “I would never have mapped it out this way.”

To me, those moments feel like the universe meeting me along the way.

So I always leave room for intuition, curiosity, a route I haven’t considered yet and the opportunity to follow a hunch that makes no sense.

Try it on the dance floor

The next time you’re practicing a salsa move, pause for a moment.

Imagine yourself moving through it from beginning to end. Picture the steps, the turn, and the moment you settle back into the rhythm.

Then try it with your body.

Afterward, notice one thing that felt clearer, easier, or more connected. Maybe you remembered the first few steps. Maybe you felt less tense. Maybe you lost your place and found it again.

Let that count.

I’m beginning to think the magic of small wins is how they help us keep going. They make progress visible while the bigger goal is still taking shape.

So I’ll keep reminding my son—and myself:

Look where you want to go.

Stay present for the next step.

And give yourself credit when you take it.

What small win have you had recently that you almost forgot to count?