Insecurities are the weeds in our garden.
Until dealt with, they grow, and they grow, until they have taken over the tomatoes and the sunflowers. Their roots dive deep, wrapping tightly around any source that can provide them sustenance, however temporary or destructive that source may be.
Eventually, that too will run out, and those same roots—now bigger than before—will continue diving until they find their next source of sustenance. Just like the weeds in your garden, every sinister event that has happened on our planet was a result of nothing more than insecurity itself.
Over the past few years I’ve come to truly appreciate this analogy, applying it to my own life with growing resolve.
I’ve self-analyzed endlessly, coming to awareness of some of the actions I was doing unconsciously to hold myself back. One of the best things I have done was to truly observe my insecurities, assessing why I experience them.
What triggers these emotions, where do they come from, and why I am perpetuating these all too familiar patterns?
I, like many others, was the saboteur of my own success, though for years I was completely blind to this reality. I dove head first into the world of self-help content in search of answers to my problems, as if books on their own could help me change my reality.
This is where I possess a great deal of criticism for the self-help industry. Books and videos are certainly great in a multitude of ways. Knowledge is invaluable, and I have no regrets about what have I learned. The problem is not in the information, but in how we approach it.
This content compounds upon itself, until our mind becomes a virtual library of “how to” guides dictating how we must live. The problem here is the drastic difference from one individual to the next.
We all experience life uniquely, and my answer may not necessarily be the right one for you. When insecurity is a part of your world, it becomes the decision maker. It dictates what you are going to do, when you are going to do it, and how. It creates a life that seemingly feels beyond our control. A reality that is guided by needs, wants, and desires—not by principles.
“How to” guides turn from advice into nothing more than a thin external veil—one that is piloted by the same old problems.
The paradox here is indeed quite obvious. How much self-help is enough? At which point do we graduate from reading about (and nurturing) our challenges, to the subsequent stage, where we simply trust our newfound ability to follow a value set.
At which point do we confide in our own competency, and actually begin flexing that muscle?
At a certain point, the only way to foster true growth is to face insecurities head-on, observing them for what they are. The notion that old habits die hard holds a lot of truth, but when they do finally die, it’s pretty damn worthwhile.
Insecurity is an inevitable aspect of being alive. It is part of the human condition and it will come and go as it pleases. We do not get to decide why it happens, but we can decide how. When we stop providing our insecurities with constant nurture, we give ourselves the chance to call the shots.
This is how we grow.