“I believe in you.” Is the water to the planted seed.
Disbelief, in all its forms, is the desert heat that stunts the seed’s growth.
People tend to perform in proportion to how much (or how little) people believe in them.
Their seeds are there, maybe all they need is some watering—from you.
Idea gathering is addicting. It’s motivating. It’s exciting.
…It does nothing for you.
Gathering ideas is about as useful as gathering seeds—and I’m not talking about the kind you can eat.
Most of us have an incredible store of seeds that are doing nothing more than taking up space. And yet, what so many of us continue to do is carry on collecting more seeds for our store.
For what? Why? Because you want bigger ones? So you can collect them all? This isn’t Pokémon.
The thing about seeds is that they’re wildly inexpensive and abundant—like ideas. But, even just one seed planted and cared for well, can lead to something valuable. Certainly more valuable than the seed itself.
And it’s in the process of nurturing seeds and bringing plants to life where you learn the most and get the biggest return on your invested time anyway—not from seed collecting.
So, before you go searching for other seeds to collect, how about you plant and begin cultivating some of the seeds you already have?
What if, instead of being a well known collector of inexpensive seeds, you became a well known grower of increasingly valuable plants?
My dog will BARK and YELL and RAGE and fearlessly advance towards even the most vicious looking dogs.
But, pops, cracks, and whizzes from the fridge?
Terrified. Whimpers. Needs to be held.
These noises, of course, don’t scare us because we understand them.
But, failure, aloneness, suffering?
Leaves most of us terrified, whimpering, and feeling like we need to be held.
Maybe it’s the case that these things aren’t inherently scary, but we’re just scared of them because we don’t fully understand them.
Maybe if we spent more time learning how to fail forward, enjoy aloneness, and channel our suffering—we wouldn’t be so scared?
Things become less scary once we understand them.
This post became the introduction for: 13 Rousing Delia Owens Quotes from Where The Crawdads Sing on Abandonment, Love, and Self-Reliance
Like a dresser filled with old clothes, you have to let go of the old in order to make room for the new. If you feel like you have no time or space to do new things—things of interest to you—maybe it’s because your dressers are full.
This doesn’t mean you need to be done with something just because it’s old. Just that you should carefully inspect everything old—as you would if you were clearing out your belongings.
But, don’t let your possessive side take over.
Being possessive is instinctual. We want to hold on closely to all that we’ve acquired. But, the more we hold on to, the more we become held down. The more we stuff our drawers will the old, the less space we’ll have for anything new. And the more stubborn we are with our current lifestyle, the harder it will be to upgrade to any kind of a new one.
Observing—even learning from—other people’s mistakes can illuminate a path forward for you.
But, having your path illuminated is much different than trudging through the darkness yourself.
Use both to keep moving forward, but don’t expect one to act as a substitute for the other.
Some lessons can only be learned in the dark. And some roads are too hazardous to travel without light.
With vulnerability and authenticity, arguments aren’t needed—genuine connection happens seamlessly.
When walls are built around emotions and facades cover feelings, arguments act as the storms that tear down those “fronts” to finally expose what’s fortified underneath:
Vulnerability and authenticity.
I find that the best moments often closely follow the worst ones.
If you find yourself in some of your worst moments, hang on. Allow the depth of the experience to move through you. Let it deepen your roots into the ground.
Remember that, eventually, your worst moments will be no more. They will pass as all moments do—best and worst alike. And, more solid into the ground, you will be able to reach higher into the sky than ever before.
How do I know this? Because it’s how great heights are only ever reached. Not in spite of the worst moments—as a result of them. Not without deepened roots—precisely because of them.