This weekend we're celebrating a birthday (happy birthday Connie 🫶🏼).
I got reflective.
Birthdays are our earliest cultural ritual of accumulation. From childhood, they condition us to measure life incrementally: more years, more experience, more stuff.
From our earliest moments, we're taught growth is about acquiring: another candle, another year, another accomplishment stacked high on life's shelf.
But what if this focus on growth through addition deafens us to the whisper that subtraction is essential?
Nature models this deeper wisdom clearly for us:
- Trees flourish when pruned. Excess branches, once removed, spark vigorous growth.
- The snake sheds its skin regularly, letting go of old identities to thrive.
- Butterflies dissolve their caterpillar form, relinquishing everything familiar to become something new.
These aren't acts of loss... they're simply expressions of nature's infinite growth potential.
Each birthday candle added obscures something subtler: growth through release; renewal through shedding.
Becoming a toddler requires releasing infancy; becoming an adult means letting go of teenage immaturity.
The subtraction is subtle, while the acquisition is loud.
Being releases doing.
Pause and reflect for a minute...
How do you measure growth?
Early in my life, the signs for growth seemed clear: bigger titles, larger teams, loftier awards. I chased each one hungrily, stacking success high like trophies.
What I didn't realize then was that the castle I was building on the outside was hollowing me out on the inside. And I didn't recognize the empty feeling until it was too late.
The symptoms were there, but I had missed them.
Sleepless nights, constant thinking and ruminating, irritability, competing for attention. Striving, acquiring, building, always wanting more.
I was stuck in mental ruts, shaped by habits, traditions, and societal expectations I had never questioned. Grooved by habit and repetition.
I knew I had to change, but clarity only arrived unexpectedly. At a party one evening a few years ago, a brief yet profound conversation cracked open a new path. It challenged my beliefs and led me into a deep search — expansive ideas, wise teachers, and a scientific method. Direct experience the ultimate judge and jury.
I learned subtraction is growth, releasing old stories for new possibilities.
Like a sculptor carving a statue from a marble block.
Or a canyon shaped by a river.
I listened and applied their wisdom. I began cultivating intentional subtraction.
→ I dropped the armour of roles I had mistaken for skin.
→ I shed the hustle disguised as purpose.
→ I relinquished competition in favour of genuine connection.
This shift changed me profoundly.
My life blossoms the more I let go.
Peace and contentment light my path.
Nothing in life is easy... until you give up the idea that life is hard.
Pause and ask yourself:
- What belief am I holding tightly, mistaking it for growth?
- What can I gently release today to allow something new to flourish?
This week's daily practice:
- Each evening, write down one thing you've let go — an expectation, a habit, an unnecessary commitment.
- Notice how this subtraction creates space, clarity and peace.
Life isn't an upwards-only staircase with an abrupt end. It's a garden gently pruned, a snake's discarded skin, a butterfly’s chrysalis dissolved. Subtraction inviting profound renewal.
Growth isn't measured in loud applause or another candle.
It's felt in the quiet, steady hum of clarity.
Subtracting what drops away naturally,
Zaheer
P.S. Have something you’re ready to gently release or a story of subtraction to share? Hit reply — I'd love to hear what's shifting for you.
P.P.S. If you missed my letter from last week, read it here: What are you feeding? (And how it shapes your life)
