Eventually, the desire to understand our own layers deepens. Some dig in and do the dirty work, getting down to the root of who they really are.
Some prefer not to bother what’s below for fear of altering what appears to be thriving above the surface.
What I have found is this: In getting down to the roots, we’re able to better understand what may be necessary for a thing to grow.
It’s simple. If I don’t know the names and origins of the seeds that were planted, I am unable to properly nurture them. I’m unaware of the type of soil they thrive in. How much sunlight is enough or too much? Water daily, or weekly?
You see, there are things that, if understood, will allow a thing to live and thrive as it is meant to. And there are things that, if never understood, can prevent the thing from ever blooming as beautifully as it should.
It’s hard for me to accept that proper growth can happen without first understanding the characteristics of the seed that was planted, the things that took root, and the growth that happened or didn’t happen as a result of its environment.
What if the person we see in the mirror is only an under nurtured version of who we’re really supposed to be?
What if we haven’t been tended to properly, simply because no one (including ourselves) ever took the time to dig deeply and understand what we have the potential of becoming.
Why doesn’t anyone wanna dig? Seems most folk would rather just pour on more dirt and bury, bury, bury.
I’m speaking metaphorically here, but we know that is never the answer. Don’t we?
No amount of covering is going to fix what’s going on underneath it all. And, you know? It could be that there’s absolutely nothing wrong underneath the surface. But I still believe it’s better to know. To be aware. To recognize what is in us.
What if there are things you haven’t tapped into yet, because you didn’t know you could?
My point is this: Get to know your kind. Know thyself. Come up from the dirt, if you have to, and get grounded in fresh soil. The kind of soil that’s just right for you. The kind of soil that will allow you to take root and grow tall and strong. Take the time to figure out how much sunlight you require. How often you should be watered. Pay attention to the environments you thrive best in. Identify your good seeds, and nurture them, and dig up the bad ones before they take root. If they already have, pull them up. Tug, chop, cut, break, and work unremittingly to rid yourself of their blight.
Do whatever you must to become the best version of yourself. The complete you. The full you. The you that reveals the brilliant spectrum of your true colors.
This has been my pursuit for well over a year now, and my only regret is that I didn't really know to do it sooner. I'm nothing like the person I thought I was. Truly, I'm much more like the person I thought I wasn't. Has it been dirty getting down to my truths, my seeds, my purpose? Yeah, it has at times. But the growth that's happened sense is so worth it. Now that I know who I am underneath it all, I've began to truly thrive. I mean, like thrive in a new way. This way feels real. It feels fresh. Healthy. Right.