We grow in wavelengths, not straight lines, moving upward and forward.
As we are in class learning lessons, the tests are coming at us. Once we begin to move away from the epicenter of our “aha” moments, the tests are still coming. It’s the repetition of the new truths that make our clarity the root of our new mode of reacting, amidst the pull of the habitual.
It’s the understanding that not every test will be passed with flying colors, nonetheless the growth is there. You’re not crazy, fam. you really did learn that lesson — you had a revelation — even though the same situation may arise.
It takes time, sometimes, for it to stick.
A good portion of my depression over the years was rooted in the feeling that I hadn’t grown, because things didn’t instantaneously change, as I came to — upon discovery of deeper ways to live — believe my mind and life should.
It took a while for me to see that the appearance of a second test doesn’t necessarily mean that the last was even failed, but maybe just that a new semester or term was concluding. To ease up on myself, as a student. Take the pressure off of me to be some perfect educator and be a pupil. To hear the sternness with which life said “wax on, wax off” and realize that the countlessness of the repetition was for mind and muscle memory’s sake. To create in me an instinct, where once stood a habit that grew from a trait picked up in survival-mode.