Transcription
Our societies are attached to the phrase "growing," implying important psychological evolution and development. But what does "growing" really involve? What capacity are we developing when we grow, and what are we leaving behind? Crucially, how much can we train ourselves to grow faster?
What we might be pointing to with the idea of growth is the ability to stop responding to situations through lenses unconsciously distorted by our psychological histories, especially childhood experiences. A person who grows can look more fairly at people and situations, recognizing how their presumptions—shaped by loneliness, fear, betrayal, and humiliation—might aggravate conflict, heap unwarranted suspicion, or ruin chances. A person who has grown will check unhelpful responses and seek more objective explanations. Perhaps a companion's mistake was innocent; maybe they need to apologize; maybe there was a misunderstanding.
To grow is to acquire courage for new questions: What if I defended myself against closeness and hope? What if I used busyness to avoid self-reflection? What if I ended relationships prematurely because isolation felt safer? What if I avoided showing my authentic self? These are "causal" questions, fundamentally rethinking one's place. The more one grows, the more one gives up certainty, not out of meekness or self-hatred, but for newfound skepticism, modesty, and a humorously acknowledging errors and fragility.
A person who has grown understands how much they misunderstand. They appreciate their fear of intimacy and joy. They often say, "I don't know," or "Let me think about that." They might even say, "I think you have a point." They're receptive to friendships built on vulnerability and anxiety.
What spurs growth is almost always pain. We grow because we were fired and saw colleagues' criticisms. We grow because we lost a love and saw our own guardedness. We grow because needing help revealed the meaning of friendship. The greatest sign of growth might be calmly accepting the scale of one's silliness, acknowledging how much one is still learning, how childlike one still is. A person who has grown won't be offended by being called an idiot; they'll be intensely committed to being less of one.