Altitude of Growth
As you ascend the mountain of self growth inching closer to greatness, whether you find yourself on the pitch, on the court, or on the field, there comes a serene but seismic realization that not everyone who was with you at basecamp is equipped for the thin air of higher altitudes. While it takes other people during times of growth, it is very much a singular journey. Only you can do the work. Growth is a clarifying fire. A ruthless eliminator of the ill equipped and unprepared. You can’t fake self evolution. Those who try to fake it are the same ones who endlessly talk about everything they’ve learned. They’ll buy a book about the climb, post it on Instagram, feel spiritually sore for a week and call that growth.
But. If you choose to climb. Prepare yourself, as best you can, to feel gravity carving deeper truths into your quads, teaching patience in the pain of revelation and strength when you learn to surrender.
From my work in the headspace side of the game with athletes, power comes from the molting of beliefs that once anchored you. As you evolve, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, your internal and external environment must elevate. It must become more attuned. Relationships once full of camaraderie start to rust and decay under the new weight of your personal standards. The people you once considered your inner circle may not yet possess the capacity for the expedition you’re on. Everyone has their own internal narratives and as we grow our narratives shift. The deeper you get into this shift, due to your momentum and new level of tolerance to the discomfort of growth, the more you may notice a misalignment with those you once were in sync.
Your growth will cause waves, there’s no denying it. Not everyone around you is aiming at your summit. Some are on a downhill slide. Others are stuck in the valley reading Atomic Habits for the seventh time because “it’s the best book ever”. They are the same people who bring granola bars to the storm. Your growth will expose their unpreparedness. When your willingness to dive deep within shows up as arrogance to them, it’s not that you’re arrogant. The dissonance is present because you know battling the storms lead to undiscovered lands and seeing the work you’ve done exposes their lack of willingness to do the same for themselves.
This inevitably comes up with people in my work. When it does, I help them understand attrition more deeply. I teach them that grief is a necessary part of growth. Loneliness will come and is a signpost along the journey of evolution but you are not alone on the journey. And leadership will often lead you into the dark first. Not to disappear. But to hold light to the path others are still preparing to start.
Personally, I choose to keep pumping my legs up the mountain because the clarity I need only lives above the tree line where the air is crisp and the clouds below are the new floor to my feet. There is no lack of love or selfishness in pursuing my own development. Love and empathy still exists. In empathy I understand that my movement doesn’t mean I’m abandoning anyone, it means that even as I grow, my love for them remains and can meet them where they are at. And at times where they are choosing to stay means I must let go of the relationship we once had.
A gentle reminder... after you reach one summit, you’re back down the other side to your next challenge. Learn to view the summit you’re staring up not as a destination. It’s a pattern to life. A commitment. It’s a hand on the good book type of oath to keep rising when everything in you begs you to settle.
Let the silence from dissonance teach you discernment. Allow the burning in your legs remind you that each step upward is reshaping your spirit. And as the storms roll in and out, don’t see your solitude as being left in the quiet. As you reach new heights you once deemed impossible, your clarity will sharpen, your vision becomes more clear and the weight of it all becomes a wonderful teacher rather than something to carry.
So walk your path because the result of staying in the same spot is the silent erosion of who you were meant to become. Climb because the world needs more people living as themselves and less seeking validation. Don’t climb to prove anything to anyone. Instead climb to reveal what is left when you sit down everything that has been holding you back.
And as you find others who are on the same sacred journey, give them a quiet nod. A nod to acknowledge the storms that battered you, the demons you faced, the weight you carried. Then, take a breath, smile to say “I’m with you.”
Keep climbing.