When things grow, they do so calmly.
They take their time, even if it's a storm, a valley, or a tree that grows.
They do not despair, they do not whine because they don't grow quickly, nor do they throw tantrums, abandoning their growth.
They continue.
Even when they rest, things grow. They do so because they continue breathing. It is impossible to stop. Even when they are preserved, they evolve. Even when they seem motionless, they move. Like stars in a black sea. Like eras that dawn and go away like a sunset.
Things grow because, within them, more microcosms grow. One also grows because one is a galaxy filled with solar systems in solid, liquid, and gaseous states.
Even when we grow old, we grow. Even when we die, we move forward to start again.
We also grow when we suffer, fall, get sick, make mistakes, or destroy.
Growth usually hurts.
Do we ever stop growing?
Maybe. Perhaps when we resist. But we never win that battle because growth always wins.
The art of growth is simply learning to synchronize with growth itself. Learning to move with the movement. It is dissolving oneself like pigment in an ever-expanding ocean.
To master that art, one must be willing to feel, discern, and interact like a musician conversing with his instrument.
It takes practice, but it is possible.
May you synchronize with the growth that is always happening.