Amidst a whirlwind of life changes, a client confided in me, “I’m stuck. I’m not growing.” The second time they said it, I felt the weight of their words and shared this insight:
For over three weeks, the raspberry, kiwi, and grape vines I had planted seemed frozen in time. Despite soaking up water and sunlight, their branches stood barren—no signs of life, no movement, just stillness. Stuck.
But when I uprooted them yesterday, I was stunned. Beneath the surface, hidden from sight, was a tangle of fresh white roots—stretching, seeking, pushing through the hard ground. Growth had been happening all along—I just couldn’t see it.
“Sometimes,” I told them, “the most important changes are the ones we don’t notice until later.”
The perspective seemed reassuring, an aha moment that helped them stop resisting what wasn’t yet visible. And I’ve seen it happen so often—clients convinced they’re standing still, unaware of the quiet shifts within them. I often notice their growth before they do, and when I reflect it back to them, they’re genuinely surprised, almost as if I’m holding up a mirror to something they hadn’t considered.
Spotting growth in myself, though? That’s harder. My friends and family are often the ones who notice it before I do. I thought back to something my birth mom, Joanne, once told me after years of knowing each other. I can’t remember her exact words, but I took it as a “Most Improved” award—evidence that I had changed in ways I couldn’t see from the inside. And it felt really good to hear.
Even so, I struggle to trust that growth is happening when I can’t see it. It’s a weakness of mine—feeling secure in something intangible. I’m a touch-it, taste-it kind of person, and without evidence, I get squirrelly.
And maybe proof isn’t what I need. The things that work, the things that flow easily, don’t require over-analysis. They just are—like a river’s constant movement. And that’s how most of my life is—a quiet unfolding, a current moving me forward whether I recognize it or not. Maybe growth isn’t about proof. Maybe it’s about trusting the river to take me where I need to go.
Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 