Gold stars.

I am repeatedly reminded how bottomless the human need for encouragement can be. In my work and in my personal life, I encounter people daily practically vibrating with the need for encouragement and affirmation.

For instance, I'm part of a group online where on the same day, one blogger was dismayed because his family and friends don't read his posts - only strangers online do. At the same time, another blogger was dismayed that only her friends and family read her posts - strangers don't ever visit.

And one of my favorite quotes I've heard in my years as a researcher came from a tough guy who'd lived a hard life, someone you'd never expect would feel this way or be able to articulate it: "Deep down, we really are all looking for that gold star on our papers."

Voicing the need for encouragement smacks to many of us as weakness and smallness, a lack of confidence. We've been told to need affirmation from others is unhealthy - and I'm not arguing that it's not, in excess. I think anything in excess is unhealthy. Except Nutella. #eatallthenutella

I digress.

We've been told we shouldn't feel this way, so a lot of people I know - myself included - stuff it down. But the need for encouragement is universal and hardwired, and each day my belief grows that those of us who act like we don't need it are fooling ourselves (but generally not others). Our continual effort to stuff down this need leads to anger, sarcasm, resentment, frustration, depression. Others notice, believe me.

So. Here we all stand, toothless kindergartners, holding up our latest fingerpaint creations, hoping someone will notice and give us a gold star, or a smile, or a pat on the head. What to do with this? I don't know for sure yet, but I know a few things:

1. We all feel this way. Simply knowing this has changed the way I see people and relate to the world. Trust me, I still get frustrated, but it takes the edge off when I realize that deep down, everyone wants to know that they are valued.

2. It's not wrong to acknowledge, and voice, the need. Just as we are sure to tell someone when we're hungry or tired, it's okay to tell the people who love us best that we're in need of a dose of encouragement. It doesn't make us weak, it makes us human.

3. Even in the depths of our own turmoil, we can look out for opportunities to be a "hope dispenser" for other people. The need for encouragement is really a need for hope, right? It's about telling me that no matter who or what or where I am right now, I am ultimately okay, and I can be better tomorrow. It can be authentic, not a platitude. I happen to believe faith helps, but it's not necessary if you're not into it. I'm imagining a big soda machine where all the buttons say "HOPE." Be the machine. Keep the buttons lit up. Try not to let your own crap put you "Out of Order" for other people.

4. We need to keep fingerpainting. I wish we could all still be toothless kindergartners, smearing paint across the page... exploring, trying new things, making a mess. How sad is that moment when we put the lid on the paints forever, and forget how to play and create, because the grown-ups around us don't seem to think it's worthwhile?

Knowing we're all craving the gold star, and that we all feel like maybe we're not getting enough of them (because deep down we're convinced we're unworthy or broken), makes me feel better about my own fingerpainting efforts. It helps put into perspective the times when they've seemed to go unnoticed. For what it's worth, I think I'll stay over here at the art station, sniffing the tempera paints, making a grand mess of things. And because I'm human, every once in a while, I'll still run up to someone, grinning foolishly, proud of my creations, hoping for that star... but hopefully not imploding when it doesn't appear.