
“Growth is painful. Change is painful. But nothing is as painful as staying stuck where you do not belong.” ~N. R. Narayana Murthy
Remember those childhood days with Stretch Armstrong? You and a friend would each grasp an arm, slowly backing away, eyes fixed on the elastic figure. The tension built as you tested its limits, waiting for that inevitable moment—would your strength give out first, or would Stretch’s limbs tear asunder? And if you reached your breaking point, an older sibling might swoop in, relishing the sight of your excitement turning to tears as Stretch crossed the point of no return. This tug-of-war with the toy mirrors a much more complex struggle we face in life: the feeling of being stuck.
We often misunderstand what it means to be stuck. It’s not as if our feet are glued to the ground. Instead, being stuck is an active, internal battle, a constant pull in opposite directions, much like the forces acting on Stretch Armstrong. One part of us cries, “Don’t give up,” while another whispers, “This isn’t working.” Caught in this emotional crossfire, moving forward seems like an impossible feat. But what if, instead of frantically searching for a solution, we allowed ourselves to simply be in this state of stuckness? What if we could acknowledge it with honesty, saying, “I’m stuck, and it makes perfect sense given everything going on in my life”?
I find myself in the throes of such a struggle, grappling with existential angst about my career. The freedom of working for myself is enticing—no bosses dictating my schedule, no one breathing down my neck. But this independence comes with a hidden cost. The isolation is palpable. On tough days, there’s no colleague to lean on, no team to share the workload, and no shared goal to strive towards. As Charlie Munger, Warren Buffett’s right-hand man, wisely said, “Life is all about making wise choices and dealing with trade-offs. In business and elsewhere, I’ve yet to see a good example of something that’s totally free—there’s always a catch, always a cost.”
I’m at a crossroads, questioning whether these trade-offs are still worth it. After more than eight years of working solo, I’m drawn to the idea of being part of something bigger, a cause that transcends my individual pursuits. But here’s the million-dollar question: how do we know when to sit with uncertainty and when to take decisive action? It’s a delicate balance, one that’s often difficult to navigate.
This is where self-awareness becomes our guiding light. When considering taking action, we must tune into the energy behind our impulses. Is the urge to act driven by urgency, fear, or a desperate need to escape discomfort? If so, it’s a clear sign that action might not be the answer just yet. On the other hand, if there’s a sense of clarity, even if it’s not complete certainty, and the action feels like a release rather than a hasty retreat, then perhaps it’s time to move forward.
Right now, I’m adrift in a sea of emotions. There’s no clarity, no clear direction. My every thought is tinged with urgency, fear, and a strong desire to escape this discomfort. What does this tell me? Simply put, I’m in no state to make a grounded decision. That doesn’t mean I won’t take action eventually, but for now, I need to create space, to allow my mind and heart to settle, so I’m not making choices driven by fear.
In a culture that glorifies action as the ultimate solution, it’s easy to get caught up in the belief that movement equals progress. But when we’re stuck, this mindset only exacerbates the problem. We’re like a hamster on a wheel, running faster and faster in search of answers, only to find them slipping further away.
I’m no expert on this journey. Just like you, I’m navigating the twists and turns of life one day at a time. But I want you to know that you’re not alone. Instead of rushing into action, what if you took a small step towards grounding yourself? Maybe it’s taking a deep, cleansing breath, placing a hand on your heart, or simply reminding yourself, “I don’t have to figure this all out right now.”
Allow yourself to acknowledge the pain, the urgency. Let all parts of you know that you see them, that you’re not ignoring them. You just want to make decisions from a place of clarity, not fear. There’s no need to rush. Take the time to settle, to find your center, and then, when the time is right, you’ll know which path to take.