Seeds of Growth: Noticing the Small Changes Leading to Growth

There is this trail that I love.

Just a short, three-minute song away from my front door, I make it a point to walk it at least once per day. It stretches behind, alongside a hill and as you walk the gentle rise of the trail, the vista opens before you, offering a panoramic spectacle of the town nestled below and the majestic mountains that cradle it. The road then slowly slopes downward, eventually disappearing from view among the lush green ferns and branches of the trees.

The forest surrounds you fully then and just before the trail takes a steeper incline, you step over a small stream of water. It is always there, no matter the weather, be it the cold winter morning or scorching summer afternoon. Then you are graced by the forest clearing and the road keeps stretching, inviting you to venture as deep into the woods as as you will let it.

In the past month, I’ve had the joy of witnessing something truly special unfold alongside my trail. What was once a dull land of brown grass and muddy roads gradually burst into a vibrant green haven of nature’s beauty. It began subtly, almost imperceptibly, until one day, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the transformation. Small leaves timidly emerged, hinting at the lush canopy to come, while clusters of green on the forest ground promised blueberries in the summer.

Journaling example

While the trail flourished, my life felt like crawling through cold mud. While writing the finishing touches for my master’s thesis disposition, a seemingly ordinary March morning turned my life upside down. The execution of my research idea was rejected the day before my presentation, and the week before I needed to submit my thesis proposal to the board of researchers. I won’t delve into the specifics of why the research plan fell through, but I can confidently say that this has been the most stressful period of my college experience.

Countless emails to potential collaborative therapists and mentors, frantic scheduling of meetings, sleepless nights, and this constant feeling of anxiety became the norm as I raced against the clock to salvage my academic ambitions before it was too late.

In the middle of the chaos swirling around me, one evening my mom casually mentioned my younger brother’s assignment on stress coping strategies. It sparked a memory from my early days in college when one of my first assignments was on a similar topic. With a glimmer of hope to assist my brother, I decided to dig out that old assignment.

As I opened the Word document, a flood of memories washed over me. I vividly recalled how proud I felt when I presented my insights to my classmates and the warmth of the professor’s praise for my presentation skills. It was more than just an assignment for me—it was the first time I truly felt a spark ignite within me while presenting a biopsychological subject.

My eyes began to scan the context of the document, and I laughed a little at the words I was reading. “This is rubbish! I didn’t even cite my sources and these sentences could use a rewrite,” I admitted loudly, astonished at the simplicity of my earlier efforts.

Yet, my mom’s wise observation cut through the self-deprecation like a spring through a forest: