Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to grow—and not just in the achievement sense. Growth that feels sustainable, honest and aligned. Growth that doesn’t demand we burn ourselves out or abandon ourselves to get there.
There’s this word—abundance—that gets thrown around a lot. Sometimes, it lands with meaning, but often, it feels like an empty promise. A placeholder for “more” without asking why or for whom. I’m interested in a deeper version of abundance. One that isn’t just about accumulation but about capacity. Capacity for clarity, for stillness, for better questions.
In seasons of real growth there’s usually a quiet kind of reckoning. We come face to face with what’s working and what’s not. It’s rarely glamorous. It’s often a letting go. Of expectations. Of identities we’ve outgrown. Of strategies that once served us but now feel hollow. That shedding can be painful. But it’s also where possibility lives.
Abundance, in its truest form, isn’t loud. It doesn’t need to be. It’s a deep, steady sense that there’s enough: time, space, energy, trust. That we don’t have to grip so tightly. That we can build from a place of presence instead of panic.
I've never been one who wanted to impress others, mostly because I am content with my space. For me, growth has looked like listening more closely. To my own instincts. To feedback. To the things that actually energise me.
To me, growth has looked like asking better questions—not just “How do I get ahead?” but “What does enough feel like?” and “What am I willing to protect even as I expand?”
We live in a culture that worships scale. But sometimes the most radical thing we can do is choose depth. Fewer things, done better. Quieter seasons, more rooted presence. Abundance isn’t the goal—it’s the result of moving from alignment.
“Abundance isn’t the goal—it’s the result of moving from alignment.”
What I mean is this:
Instead of chasing abundance as a standalone goal—more money, time, success, recognition— focus on aligning with what truly matters to you. That could be your values, your energy, your purpose, or even your capacity in a given season.
When you’re in alignment, your decisions become more intentional. You stop overextending in ways that drain you. You start investing in things that nourish you. And from that place, abundance naturally emerges—not as something forced, but as something sustained. Not just more, but more of the right things.
So, abundance isn’t the aim—it’s the outcome of living and working in integrity with yourself.
If you are in a season where things feel slow or uncertain, maybe you are in the part of growth that’s invisible. The internal rebalancing. The reorientation before the bloom.
This is a version of growth that doesn’t require us to abandon ourselves. It’s slower, but it’s real. And the abundance it brings? It’s the kind that actually sustains.