Growth is like the elephant in the room

Growth and stagnation are much easier to observe in a plant than in ourselves. Or in a child or puppy, for instance; we don’t see them for a week, a month, or a year and suddenly our mental image does not fit the one in front of us. 

That said, there's an awkwardness to growth as well. Physical growth happens and suddenly something tall and skinny replaces what we remember previously, it has a toothy grin, its pants are too short, and its shirt is busting at the armpits. Plants are leaning over and all the leaves are concentrated in a vertical row. Young dogs begin to crash into the sides of objects and knock them over.

My dog is a pandemic puppy. She came to me barely a year old and heartworm positive, only skin and bones, drinking from dirty puddles. She has recovered physically from her puppyhood trauma other than a single pellet lodged in her side that has yet to work its way out. Now that she has a beautiful body, she has "zoomies", sudden bursts of exuberance that bring crashes around her and scare the wits out of her. It makes us laugh, but poor love, she does have exhausting PTSD with flashbacks, so it's no fun for her to relive things through her own awkward physical ways.

These are examples we can appreciate with mirth, gentle chiding, adjusting of clothing, and trimming of plants and dog nails. When we talk about growth in ourselves or in others, there is more of an awkward silence. We're thinking about emotional development and mental growth. It's very sneaky, creeping up and bashing us over the head when we least expect it so we talk about it like a fool the next day.

We may not notice how much we have grown until we notice that our friends have not. Some people do not like the reminder that they have not grown emotionally healthy in every way. They may instead find us odd, arrogant, or spacey. Whatever the disconnection, there's an elephant in the room. 

There also may be an epiphany that we have on our own or with a counselor of some sort. We don't share it and we don't really know or trust how to unpack it in our usual environment. If we tell someone and they accept it and feel happy for us, we may then cut off ties for a while to avoid judgments on our progress.

Yet if we have not developed into a mentally-fit human being, that's not an enviable position, either. No wonder the awkward silence. Crickets. Elephant-sized crickets.

Have you unpacked any brilliant developments recently? I unlocked the box that I referenced a few weeks ago. It was frustrating me - I never had a financial blockage until divorce and suddenly I did. Yet I have an abundance mindset. There was something keeping clients from me. None of them were able to pay, and each had financial crises. It all seemed to be the financial trauma of divorce, and none of it made sense because I have a terrific ability to unblock blockages. 

It turns out that I have an attachment to being able to speak. Based in some childhood strongly instilled beliefs and some experiences that felt deeply shameful in my early adult life having to do with losing my ability to use words and my traumatic brain injuries developing new symptoms, I have a fundamental distrust of being able to serve. I am on a medication that stabilizes my brain to baseline so I can speak normally, see normally, and perceive normally. Still, I believe that I speak slowly. 

As it so happens, my discovery of this limiting belief (it was in a blind spot) opened me up to receive multiple compliments on my interview style. I have heard that it is calm, my questions have an easy flow, and experienced people want to learn from me. Apparently, people have the desire to acquire the calm thoughtfulness that I have. What I believed was a detriment is in fact a gift.

Unpacking this epiphany has been big and wonderful. At this point, I am figuring out how to ride the elephant and not worrying so much about what I have not prepared.

Stay in touch!