The Power of Discovery: Embracing Curiosity and Growth
L’Aveyron River, St. Antonin Noble Val, France. 2024.
After four months of solo-traveling through Madrid, Barcelona, and southern France, I’d say I know a thing or two about self-discovery. But really, this isn’t new for me. Every few years, I celebrate my own reinvention: starting a new job, moving to a new city, traveling from China to Costa Rica and back home to Chicago—sinking deeper into myself each time.
And at the start of every one of these self-discovery phases, I was thoroughly burnt out.
When my last cycle ended, someone wise told me that what I needed “couldn’t be found in a training room.”
She was facilitating a weeklong training at the time, so I don’t think it was a critique of training itself—retreats, workshops, or even the organization she was partnering with.
I believe she meant something deeper.
In chapter fifteen of Undrowned, titled “Go Deep,” Alexis Pauline Gumbs asks: “What does it take to go deep, below the surface of current events and social media reactions? What would allow you to look at what is under your actions, and under that, and under that?” She reminds us that sometimes, “when you think you’ve reached the bottom, there is still deeper to go,” and encourages us to “take a breath” before diving in. (Listen to select passages from Alexis Pauline Gumbs.)
Smog clouded valley from Peak at St. Antonin Noble Val, France. 2024.
As people who care about others, we often define ourselves by how well we perform in the roles we take on: Supervisor, Aunt, Sister, Coach, Mentor, Leader. The lines blur between who we are and what we believe others need expect from us. So, we lock in. We give it our all. We build exercises to test and measure ourselves against, like bodybuilders cultivating muscle mass through strategic training. We muscle through our roles, routines, our relationships. We give until we literally have nothing left to give and we have nothing left. We’re left searching.
What I believe?: Discovery isn’t about muscle. It’s about fascia.
Muscle builds through reps, tears, and repair. Muscle is our armor, controlling our movements and wielding power. You can build muscle in a week of training. Fascia, though, is different.
Fascia is the deep sheath of fibrous, connective tissue that encases every muscle, organ, and bone in the body. It allows muscles to stretch and contract, creating a smooth, soft landing for movement. It’s almost as sensitive as the body’s skin with so many nerve endings that it can actually store or release pain on behalf of the muscles they encase. And every single muscle, every organ and bone in the body is encased in this fascial tissue. So you can imagine that tending to this life vest within the body requires many kinds of deep care, and because it’s encompassing the entire body, you can multiply all of the depths of this discovery work x3.
Discovery is about journeying into those depths, placing love and trust in your own experiences as wisdom keepers, and allowing that energetic connection to self, move you. It’s about connecting with the pain you feel, the conflict you hold about the roles you’ve been given, and the frustration with how those roles are designed. Not because you need to be “better,” but because these parts of yourself want to be integrated, to be part of you. That’s everything. That’s wholeness.
Your lessons, your pain, your strength, your perspective—even the dissonance in what you believe—fortifies who you are.
When you allow all of these parts of yourself in, you hold space for yourself and can begin to honor who you are at your core. And here’s the magic: the more space you hold for yourself, the more you can source for others. Who you are becomes part of someone else’s fascia, woven into their being, carried into their next connection, and on and on. This is how the self is held together—and sustained. We are layers upon layers of our ancestors, but also of who we allow ourselves to be today.
M. Winston caught looking up just in time to see a shooting star beneath a bright full moon. St. Antonin Noble Val, France. 2024.
I’m dreaming of a movement that holds space for us to be more than our roles. To integrate what we’ve learned into who we are becoming. To take off our name tags, set down our weights at the door, lean in, breathe and stretch.
If this message finds you in one of those moments, whenever you’re ready: I’ll meet you on the mat. Until then, deep gratitude for all you do.
In love & Light,
MW