I’m no taller than 5 feet. First spurt of growth – and hope – was in 6th grade. I have a longer neck now. Maybe that counts as growth. I horizontally stretched in college. Then snapped back a year after graduation – my most slender yet. I’m 23, 4 feet, 11 inches.
What’s taller, however, is not my stature. But how I feel. I let go most of my clutter (physical then mental) which helped me see what’s most important in my life. It didn’t happen overnight; it has been a gradual purging of noise, of excess, of procrastination, of discontent.
I’m still running this marathon.
Struggling with resistance, our inner genius, is natural. It’s spooling stories in our heads, suppressing every inch of proclivity towards creation. It’s the raging voice in our heads telling us we cannot be more than we are now.
But we can dance with this fearful voice. We can recognize it, tame it, and keep it at bay.
And there are no secrets.
We begin by just beginning. Turn down the noise, plant your butt, begin, and stay – stay for a while. Feel every bit of sensation in your rebellious body as discomfort diffuses in your nerve endings. Again, stay and feel the uncertainty. Notice the temptations, the old reflexes. Let it sink.
But don’t listen to that voice.
For us to even scratch the surface of our goal is to not exit as fast we can, but to stay and enjoy the process, the simultaneous discomfort and power we gain. That’s how we resolve the conflict in our heads; that’s how we honor the calling in our hearts.
It takes one step and staying with the uncertainty every single time – dipping, wondering, and growing with this voice. We don’t have to kill it; it’s our nature. But we can set that voice aside – probably in a bean bag beside us – while we create the work we’re meant to be doing. It can be a calm struggle this way.
Growing taller means trimming the excess in our lives, making space for freedom.