Be water, my friend

I have always been impatient with where I am. There has always been a voice inside me telling me to do more, be better, and go faster. For a long time, I thought this voice was ambition, and I took pride in it.

Alongside this voice, I lived in a constant state of fight or flight. I became fixated on milestones in my personal life and career. I counted on big wins - getting into this school, signing that job offer, hitting a big PR at the gym - to make me feel like I was moving forward. I told myself that once I overcame the one obstacle in front of me, I would level up, and then everything would feel different. I became frustrated when my blunt-force approach didn’t work. Even when it did, there was always another thing waiting. It never seemed to end.

I have been this way for as long as I can remember. That fiery energy helped me accomplish a lot. It pushed me to do well in school and at work, and kept me moving when things were difficult. However, when I turned 25, I realized two things:

1. My energy is precious, and I should spend it wisely. Carrying this fiery energy all the time is taking a toll on me.
2. Many things in life are like big rocks that no one can move. It doesn’t help to think, “Of all the places it could go, why is it in my way?” And being fire can’t burn through that rock.

At this point in my journey, Bruce Lee’s words, “Be water”, resonate with me more deeply than ever. Water does not waste itself fighting everything in its path. It adjusts and finds the openings. It flows around the rocks and settles into the environment it has been given. It is malleable, resilient, and when the moment calls for it, it can be powerful enough to reshape the very thing standing in its way.

I’m trying to move through life with less of that tightened, combat-ready energy. And learning to let go of my obsession with fighting every obstacle and controlling every outcome. Instead, I want to meet what comes, adapt to it, and find my way forward.

I’m learning that not every obstacle needs to be destroyed. Sometimes, I can simply flow around it. I’m also beginning to understand that growth rarely comes from one dramatic breakthrough. Often, it is simply the result of days of accumulated small changes. Real change happens like water: incrementally, slowly, softly, quietly, but persistently.