Becoming like water

A reflection on non-linear growth, vision, and creative tension

The first summer I worked at my current job, it took me all weekend for the stress of the week to leave my body. I was leading a digital transformation solo, save another consultant. I'd never seen it done before, and I had no existing mentors to lean on. I couldn't fathom how I would influence the established IT team to make swift strategic decisions, let alone make those decisions myself. I was swimming in a sea of endless decisions and information, with barely a shred of experience or intuition to make it any easier.

I was under load. I was subject to two strong forces in particular: the force of my desire to achieve the goal, and the reality of my situation. I lacked the skills, resources, and internal coalition to have a clear path to victory. These two forces, applied over the period of months, changed the structure of my ambition at a fundamental level.

I learned how to hold a vast vision with a steadfast heart and mind, even when it fell outside my circle of influence and went beyond my present abilities. When I couldn't see a clear path to victory, it no longer instantly triggered feelings of frustration or futility. I handled challenges one at a time, making progress where I could. Critically, I did not diminish the vision due to my own limitations. I just remained committed to doing my small part.

Robert Fritz calls this creative tension - the dynamic force that emerges from holding both your vision and your current reality in clear focus simultaneously. It's like the tension of a stretched rubber band, storing potential energy. The greater the gap between where you are and where you're going, the more potential energy builds up. This energy doesn't just motivate action - it fundamentally reorganizes your capacity to perceive and think.

I visualize this as a stream hoping to merge with the ocean, armed with nothing but determination and fluidity, learning to merge with other streams or fold around whatever obstacles appear. This continuous process of reshaping resolves the seeming paradox at the heart of possibility thinking. How does one reach toward the impossible while staying grounded in what is? The way out of this paradox is non-linear growth.

By making the deadline just a little shorter or the size of the scope just a little larger, I create steady pressure. Under this pressure, I change shape. Many times these past few years, I'll return to work after a good night of sleep or a restful weekend and feel spaciousness. The same workload, technical problem, or interpersonal issue that seemed verifiably intractable and complex just days before, starts to feel easy. The same system integration challenge that once required hours of mental wrestling now feels like something I can sketch out over coffee. Where I once saw impossibly tangled architectures, I now see workable complexity. This growth couldn't happen from just seeing reality clearer or just believing in the vision - it comes from the joint pressure of feeling both at once.

Feeling this tension fully can take you to unexpected places. For the past few weeks I've been facing a frustrating political situation. Over time, my connection to my vision grew thinner, eroded by doubt. Feeling blocked by institutional resistance felt offensive. Failure I can stomach - there are clear lessons to learn and accountability to take. But to feel stymied by forces beyond reason or merit? It felt unthinkably unfair.

As I remained in the situation while holding both my vision and the political reality, I started to break down. Like a stream parting around rocks, I had to learn to soften and divert my energy to other endeavors. Eventually I will take up my original course, but not before flowing around the rock.

I began studying how a colleague navigated these same political waters with apparent ease. When obstacles arose, he would quietly retract his efforts into the background, still extending small tendrils of influence all the while. He redistributed his energy to focus on projects where his energy can effect outcomes more easily. Watching him, I realized his will wasn't one fixed current trying to force its way through - it was like water itself, coolly deciding where to flow based on the terrain.

Through observing him and remaining in my own difficult situation, I'm learning a flexibility of heart, mind, and body: remaining solidly committed while having the dexterity to change tactics. I am cultivating a quality of mind that is enabling me to know when to detach from a course of action, and to re-dedicate myself to a course of action that may be more fruitful. It's agility at the strategic level.

Some days, this tension feels like it could crush me. Other days, I feel as though I have been created anew. Even after many cycles of pressure and release, I still can't quite describe what's happening inside me, but I grow stronger with each iteration, reforming into new and more resilient configurations.