The visibility of growth

Spring is a time of growth. A time where all the beautiful spring flowers begin to color the world after a dark and dreary winter. Everywhere I look, new colors assault my vision in the best of ways. I love getting to know the blooms and colors of Tennessee spring as it is vastly different than Colorado. But as everything is unabashedly showing their vibrant colors, there is one tree right next to where I am staying that looks as if it hasn’t changed a bit.

I can remember my first few days here seeing the green buds on its branches. I was excited to see it grow and burst into green during my five weeks here. I’m already half way through that time and that sweet tree, I swear to you, looks exactly the same.

I didn’t even notice it because I have been so fascinated with everything around it growing so magically. But today, as I was practicing yoga with the door open to let in some fresh air, I looked up and what is framed in the doorway? That stubborn tree! And my first thought was, wow, it looks exactly the same, it hasn’t grown at all.

And what a laugh. Because is it the same as two weeks ago? Absolutely not! It may look as if it has done very little growing in the past two and a half weeks but I highly doubt that is the case.

It was a sweet reminder that even when we are surrounded by visible growth, it doesn’t mean all growth is visible. Which is a lesson that is more timely than I can even express.

I pulled up the calendar in my phone a few nights ago and counted how many weeks it has been since I’ve worked. To my absolute disbelief and slight horror it’s almost been 19 weeks! How is time a real thing!? I swear to you, I have lived lifetimes in these 19 weeks but also have no idea where the time has gone.

That little number, nearly 5 months of time, threw me into a tailspin as I began to reflect on what I have done. I attempted to list all the things I have accomplished. I wanted to see how many checks I had checked off my never ending to do list. I was shocked to realize I didn’t really have anything concrete to say I have accomplished.

I haven’t finished my 200 hr yoga teacher training (but I will in about a week!!!). I haven’t finished the continuing education course I started before I left my job. I have started and restarted a book about 12 times and haven’t made it past the introduction. I haven’t created an online education platform. I haven’t even opened up the LLC that has been on my to do list for years. I haven’t figured out what state is my permanent residence aka how I will be able to vote. I haven’t the slightest clue what life will look like in another six months. I haven’t, I haven’t, I haven’t.

Those two words started every sentence as I scrolled through what I hoped to accomplish in this time off. So much so, that I decided to sign out of my brain for a bit. Just go offline and do whatever I wanted except think about all the things looming over me in a cloud full of potential.

As I was practicing yoga this morning, still looking out on that tree without visible growth, a song came on that repeated the mantra, “let it go” for, no joke, 9 minutes straight. It felt like the damn tree was speaking to me though that song. I had to stop my yoga practice 25 minutes in to furiously write this all down. (because I live in perpetual fear that the thoughts in my head, if not immediately written down or made into a voice note, will disappear and never been heard from again.)

What came to me like a tiny little green bud was this. Not all growth is visible. But most importantly, just because it is not visible, does not mean it is less valuable. Yes, we live in a world that values concrete and visible growth above all else. But just like the energy of spring, without the hidden root system only possible by downward growth, the upward blooming of the flower is impossible.

Comically, I needed a visible reminder that not all growth is in our face. Quiet, slow, inner growth, directed downward to fortify our roots, is just as valuable, if not more so in the long run. We cannot sustain outward growth forever. We must work through cycles of inner growth. This inner growth is quiet and slow and invisible to nearly everyone, sometimes even our own selves.

So here I am, back in my body, ready to reframe the past five months of “unproductive” growth. This is what I have beautifully accomplished over the last 131 days.

I have felt more at home in my body than I ever have before. I have found deeper and more beautiful connections with my soul mates of friends. I have found ways to rekindle my own fire to allow myself to light up others. I am learning more about the inner wisdom I contain. I am actively trusting myself every day. I have found daily practices that support my mental, emotional, physical and spiritual well being and have consistently made time for them. I have written more than I ever imagined. I have read many beautiful books. I have done so much yoga, of the mind and the body. I have traveled. I have shifted my perception of this world over and over. And lastly and maybe most importantly, I have experienced the magic that is living and honoring the present moment above all else.

Growth is not always about what we can show the rest of the world. First, we must quietly grow within. I thought after several years of living the half hermit life, I would be ready for some outward growth. But jokes on me, I have more work to do. You can’t force a flower to bloom.

So I will be patient. I will continue to root down into myself. I will continue to show up and grow at my own pace and in my own way. I know eventually all the little buds on that tree will burst into beautifully lush green leaves. Until then, I eagerly await the day with holding the tree and myself with abundant love and compassion.