Sometimes You Can't Grow Until You Let Go

“The greatest and most important problems of life are all fundamentally insoluble... They can never be solved, but only outgrown.” — Carl Jung

Translation: You can’t solve your problems. You can only outgrow them.

When I started my spiritual journey, I believed the universe would keep putting you in the same situations until you finally learned the lesson. That growth was about solving, overcoming, enduring.

Yesterday, I made a vision board. I didn’t think too much of it—just followed the feeling and the feelings it produced in me. Then this morning, I opened Instagram and saw two videos back-to-back. Videos, I was meant to see.

Video 1: James Gunn on Worthiness and Receiving Love

The first was James Gunn on Armchair Expert, sharing how he was on the verge of giving up on his dreams. He admitted that his motivation for success wasn’t pure—it came from a desperate need to be loved, to be accepted, to matter. His work wasn’t about expression or creativity—it was about performance. Tap dancing for love. When everything fell apart and he thought his career was over, something shifted. He realized he had been unable to receive love. But in his lowest moment, love poured in. The worst day of his life became the best.

That hit me hard. I’ve struggled with this—doing for result, doing for attention, doing to feel worthy. Even when the doing is "good," the energy behind it can be all tangled up in seeking something I already am: lovable.

Video 2: John Cena on Passion and Humanity

The second video was John Cena being interviewed on a red carpet. The interviewer, from India, asked John who he’d choose to have a conversation with—living or dead. But John flipped the script. He asked the interviewer how long his flight had been (10.5 hours) and why he came all this way. The man responded, “It’s my passion. I love movies. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. This is why I was born—this moment, right now, with you.”

John’s response? “That’s one hell of an answer. I dig your passion. I think that’s who I would ask and why I would ask it—so thanks for making me think that way. I appreciate you.”

I cried. At the sheer humanity of it. To be seen like that. To feel like you are the person someone would choose to talk to if they could talk to anyone in the world. What a gift. That moment will stay with that man forever—and with me too.

The Power to Choose Who You Want to Be

That moment reminded me: you can always choose who you want to be and how you want to treat people. Taking the time to make someone feel special, to feel seen.  That is why we are on this earth.  The most powerful thing that we can give people is love.  It hit me again.  This is what I am meant to do with my life.  This is what I get to do everyday with people I’ve never met before.  And I realized how lucky I am. How special it is to hold space for someone, to reflect their light back to them. To do this for a living is a gift I don’t take for granted.

It got me reflecting on my career as a leader.  Management can be hard. Your job is to hold people accountable, to get results. It’s easy to lose sight of the human behind the role.

It’s even harder when someone isn’t aligned with the work—they’re disconnected from their passion, and no amount of coaching or care can spark something that isn’t there. I used to beat myself up, thinking I failed. I prioritized the collective over the individual because that’s in my nature (and in my numerology). I leaned into it fully. And the truth is, I had to leave my job to step into the other aspects of myself—ones that couldn’t breathe in that system.

It’s made me wonder… did I fail my test here on earth? That I couldn’t stay and be the best version of myself in the job I did for 30 years?

Where We Begin Again

This stretch of life—between vision boards, signs from the universe, caretaking, and memories of work—is a portal. Not to a “new me,” but to a truer me. One that leads from love, not performance. That sees the stranger and chooses to see them fully. That honours the human over the outcome.

Maybe the test isn’t about staying in the hard thing. Maybe the test is whether we’re willing to listen when life says: It’s time to choose differently.