Have you ever thought of yourself as an avocado seed? Not an avocado that ends up as a dip, but as a seed with the power to grow into something powerful and strong.
At first glance, an avocado appears whole, complete, self-contained. To access what is inside, you have to cut into it, splitting it apart. That initial act is a disruption of what seemed perfectly intact. Most people focus on the soft, pliable flesh, using what is immediately useful and discarding the rest. The skin is set aside without much thought, and the seed, the core, is often thrown away entirely. And yet, it is the seed that holds the greatest potential.
To grow an avocado tree, the seed must be cleaned and suspended in water. It sits there, half submerged, exposed and seemingly inactive. Days pass, then weeks. Nothing appears to be happening. From the outside, it looks unchanged, even stagnant. This is often the stage where impatience sets in. There is a temptation to interfere, to adjust, to question whether anything is actually taking place. But this phase is not empty. It is foundational.
The seed is doing its work where it cannot be seen. It is preparing, softening, responding to its environment in ways that do not require external validation. No amount of pulling or prying will make it grow faster. In fact, interference at this stage can disrupt the very process that is trying to unfold. This is the kind of work that asks for patience, for trust, and for the willingness to allow something to develop without constant scrutiny.
Then, in its own time, the first root breaks through. It is small, almost fragile, but it changes everything. What once appeared inactive is now undeniably alive. Not long after, a shoot begins to emerge, reaching upward, marking the visible beginning of something new.
Growth, when it happens, often feels sudden. But it is never accidental. What we witness as change is usually the result of a long, unseen process. It is built on moments of discomfort, uncertainty, and quiet persistence. Each stage may feel incomplete on its own, but together they form the path forward.
Outgrowing an old identity follows a similar pattern. There is the initial disruption, when something familiar no longer holds. There is the in-between phase, where nothing feels fully formed and progress is difficult to measure. And then, eventually, there is a shift, a sign that something new is beginning to take shape.
It is important to recognize that growth and transformation are not the same, though they are often used interchangeably. Growth is an expansion of what already exists. It builds upon your current foundation, stretching it, strengthening it, allowing it to take up more space. Transformation, on the other hand, is a deeper change. It alters the structure itself. It asks you to release one version of yourself in order to become another. Both require discomfort. Both require patience. But they do not ask the same things of you.
Growth may ask you to develop new skills, to deepen your understanding, or to extend your reach within a familiar framework. Transformation may ask you to question that framework entirely, to step away from roles, identities, or expectations that no longer align with who you are becoming. The challenge is not simply in moving forward, but in discerning what kind of movement is needed.
Are you being called to grow within your current life, or to transform beyond it? Like the seed in water, there are stages where nothing appears to be happening, even when everything is in motion beneath the surface. These are not wasted periods. They are necessary ones. Without them, there is no rooting, no stability, no foundation strong enough to support what comes next.
Discomfort, in this context, is not a sign that something is wrong. It is often an indication that something is changing. The question is not whether you feel it, but what you choose to do with it.
At this stage in your life or career, are you being asked to evolve what is already there, or to transform into something entirely new? The answer may not come immediately. Like the seed in water, it may take time. But when it does, it will not feel forced. It will feel like something that was always meant to emerge, once you allowed it the space to grow.
In case you missed them:
Forgiveness Is Earned, Not Demanded
The latest from The Esoteric Frog
A new chapter of The Magical Co-working Annex is coming out tomorrow! Here’s what you missed in the series so far (in reading order):
FrogDiva Thoughts 