Living creatures want to expand. They want to grow. They—we—are made that way. Why do we even have things like eyes, ears, hands? Because back when we were just lumps, we wanted to expand. We wanted to see farther, hear more, reach out. Trees put out branches, and branches put out leaves. Kitties grow into cats, and then they puff themselves up to look way bigger if they need to. And if, sooner or later, we reach our growth potential, then we start looking for other ways to grow. Smarter. Stronger. Nicer. Richer. It’s simply not in our nature to stop where we are and say, “That’s fine. I’m good.”
Well, that’s not quite true; some people want to do exactly that. But you are not one of those people, or you wouldn’t be reading this. If it’s just curiosity that brought you—well then, understand that curiosity is expansion. Those who have no desire to continue growing are not curious about anything. They already have exactly the right amount of knowledge, thank yoooou.
If we don’t have any control over this natural desire, we can end up expanding in ways that don’t work out. Getting all the toys so no one else can play. Eating a whole box of doughnuts every day will lead to expansion, all right, but hm. If you would expand into the largest, grandest, most wonderful and useful version of yourself possible, it’s a good idea to spend a lot of time envisioning what this person would be like in real life. And this will involve doing some soul-searching of the type that leads you to recognize what you really admire in yourself. If you are kind, energetic, courageous and bossy, you might want to work on the bossy bit while encouraging growth in the other areas.
I can’t think of anything more rewarding and exciting than growth. Little kids love to measure themselves against the pencil mark of last year, or even last week. Growth is a new skill. A new language. A new desire. A new hairdo. A new friend. A new hobby. It’s you taking in a new way of responding to life. Sometimes, if you really get a roll on, it can be dizzying. You feel that some kind of actual miracle is taking place in you, little old you, and the world had better stand in awe of it.
Luckily, if you get addicted to expanding, you don’t need to fear that it has to stop. Unless you want to stop. There’s literally no limit to human growth. Maybe in extreme old age you might heave a sigh and say, “Okay, enough, I’ll rest now.” But then again—maybe not.