“Resist nothing,” she mentored me.
I clearly understood the subtle implication in my mentor’s advice, but something inside clung so so tightly. Holding tight to the logic I had armored myself with long before this adult moment. Holding tight to the self-imposed responsibility of seeing something through to the end. Clinging to who others wanted me to be and holding myself accountable to expectations weighing me down like iron chains.
Our logic - the way of being we create in the world - we develop it because we are so freaking smart. It’s a defense mechanism. Survival and all that.
My logic is often this voice inside my head I gotta break bread with. She’s kind of a B.
“Okay,” I thought. “What would that look like? Who would I be if I resisted nothing in this moment?”
I heard the answer (I always hear my answers): “You’d be free.”
“Oh sure - FINE - let’s try it,” I thought sarcastically. And I dropped the metaphorical oars and let go.
I let go of my illusion of control.
I let go of my responsibility for other people.
I let go of the lie that I could prove my worthiness by being perfect, right, liked, whatever.
I let go of the misunderstanding that I could calculate my path to being the perfect mom.
“We’ll just see what happens,” I figured. “Nothing to lose at this point, as I’m already miserable.”
And there it was - Right where I left it: my freedom.
The real kind. Not the kind I had been deluding myself into believing I had.
I was not FREE when I only said, wrote and acted in ways that would be pleasing to other people.
I was not FREE when I clung to my role as mom, terrified work might “steal” my time.
I was not FREE when I acted out of fear or not enoughness.
I was not FREE when my husband and I sat side by side in front of our laptop, reconciling the numbers in our bank account and making a backup plan for our backup plan because my business was coming up short. Again.
I was in control, though—my logic was. And on a deep level, that felt victorious. I was in charge of what was happening (pats self on back like a dumbo), and I had built my castle with playing cards.
So I got brutally honest with myself.
What can I do to commit to my freedom?
What does freedom in motherhood look like?
What does freedom in relationships look like?
What does freedom in my business look like?
And everything shifted, from the inside out. The cards collapsed, and beside them was a tree with deep roots. Strong, trusting, resilient, no longer susceptible, and instead committed to its growth without obsessing and attaching. A tree is not proving its right to exist or racing other trees—it just grows, because, well, it’s a tree and that’s what trees do… You know where this is going… BE LIKE A TREE.
Growth: It’s the natural order of the world. We evolved from cells, after all. It’s not so outrageous to recognize our own inherent propensity towards evolution and advancement.
Nourish your beliefs about yourself in this logic-obsessed world—those are your roots, sister.
Climb high like that tree and help make this world more bad-ass and beautiful.
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