Fortunate Life

This post is part of my 30 day journey reflecting on Carl Jung’s teachings and how they unfold in my own life. Each day, I explore a different aspect of the psyche, inner growth, and self discovery through personal reflection. There are days when I feel small. Days when I doubt myself, question my worth, or wonder if I am moving in the right direction. Jung believed that every person carries an inner light, a natural strength that grows when we pay attention to it. For a long time, I did not see that light in myself. I often focused on what I lacked, what I feared, or what I felt insecure about. But little by little, I began to notice moments of clarity and courage inside me. Small moments. Gentle moments. But they mattered. My inner light shows up when I choose honesty over pretending. It appears when I listen to what I truly feel instead of ignoring it. It grows when I take care of myself, even in the smallest ways, like resting when I am tired or saying no when something feels t...

It’s easy to think of growth as a destination—something we reach when we’ve mastered a skill, achieved a goal, or overcome a challenge. But in reality, growth is never a one-time achievement. It’s a journey, full of twists, setbacks, and unexpected lessons. There are moments when we think, “Now I’ve arrived.” Maybe it’s landing an important client, leading a successful training session, or finally mastering a new skill. But just as soon as that sense of accomplishment appears, life reminds us that growth keeps moving—sometimes faster, sometimes slower, sometimes in directions we hadn’t anticipated. The beauty of growth isn’t in the end point—it’s in the process. It’s in sending proposals that don’t get replied to, learning from failed projects, and adapting to change. It’s in teaching others, learning from them in return, and constantly adjusting to new challenges. One of the most important lessons is patience and persistence . Growth often happens quietly, like roots spreading und...

Teaching has a funny way of teaching you just as much as it teaches others. Over the years as a trainer, I’ve realized that guiding someone else through a lesson often highlights gaps in my own understanding—and sometimes even sparks new insights I wouldn’t have discovered on my own. At first, I thought being a good trainer meant having all the answers. I’d prepare meticulously, rehearse every slide, and anticipate every question. But very quickly, I learned that teaching isn’t about perfection—it’s about curiosity, listening, and adaptability. Some of the most meaningful moments come from questions I didn’t expect, problems I hadn’t foreseen, or ideas shared by students that challenge me to think differently. Being a student myself has also been humbling. Even as someone with years of experience, I constantly encounter new tools, methods, and perspectives that push me to grow. For example, learning how to use AI in my work and even teaching it to others has been both exciting and c...

It’s so easy to look at someone else’s success and measure your own worth against it. Social media, colleagues, or even friends can make it feel like everyone else is moving faster, achieving more, or doing better than you. But the truth is: comparison rarely serves us—it usually hinders our growth. I’ve caught myself falling into this trap many times. Seeing a fellow freelancer land a high-paying client or a friend excel in a skill I’m still learning made me question my abilities. For a moment, I’d feel behind or inadequate, forgetting that everyone has their own timing, journey, and challenges. Comparison is tricky because it focuses on the visible results, not the unseen effort, struggles, or circumstances behind them. It’s like seeing someone’s flourishing garden without knowing how many seedlings didn’t survive or how much care went into nurturing it. The moment I stopped comparing and started focusing on my own growth, things changed. I began to appreciate my own milestones—th...

Nature has a way of teaching us lessons we often overlook in our busy lives—lessons about patience, resilience, and growth. Sometimes, the simplest observations carry the deepest wisdom. I grow vegetables in my backyard, and I’ve learned this firsthand. Some plants don’t survive, especially during the rainy season here in the province. There are days when I’m busy or out of town, and I can’t tend to them as much as I’d like. At first, I felt frustrated when plants withered despite my care. But over time, I realized that not every seed will thrive under the circumstances we face. So, I adapted. I started planting cassava. It doesn’t demand constant attention, and yet it grows steadily, silently, and persistently. It reminded me that growth doesn’t always need constant oversight—sometimes, resilience and patience are enough. Nature also teaches us lessons in subtle strength. Take bamboo, for instance. It spends its first years developing deep roots beneath the soil, unseen and silent....

When I first stepped into training, I thought my role was to teach. To stand in front, deliver content, and make sure people understood. But over time, I realized that the best trainers aren’t just teachers—they’re also learners. And the key to thriving is something called a growth mindset . A growth mindset is the belief that skills and abilities can be developed through effort, feedback, and practice. The opposite—a fixed mindset—believes that talent is set in stone: you either have it or you don’t. In those early days of training, I wasn’t as confident as I seemed. Inside, I was battling racing thoughts, shaky hands, and the nagging fear that some of my students might outshine me. My palms would feel damp, my chest tightened as I spoke, and I’d silently wonder if I was good enough to stand in front of a room. But little by little, things shifted. Students would tell me that they clearly understood my explanations, that the sessions were helpful, and that they appreciated the way I g...

  We live in a world that loves quick wins. “Overnight success,” “instant results,” “fast growth.” But the truth I’ve learned, both as a trainer and a freelancer, is that real growth rarely happens overnight. It happens slowly—sometimes so slowly that you don’t even notice it until you look back. I still remember my first few training sessions. My hands would sweat, my heartbeat would race, and self-doubt would whisper, “What if your students know more than you?” As an introvert, standing in front of a group felt overwhelming. But then something happened that I didn’t expect. Students started telling me that I was good at what I do—that they understood my explanations clearly, that my sessions gave them confidence. Those words felt like a huge accomplishment. Because in those moments, I realized that what felt shaky and slow to me was actually growth in progress. It didn’t happen in one day, or even one session. But with patience, each small step—each class delivered, each stud...

We love the idea of growth. We talk about becoming better versions of ourselves, chasing success, and reaching new milestones. But what we don’t always talk about is this: growth doesn’t feel good while it’s happening. In fact, it often feels uncomfortable. Think about the first time you tried something new—your first client call, your first training session, your first big pitch. Chances are, you felt nervous, unprepared, maybe even like you didn’t belong. That discomfort wasn’t a sign that you were failing—it was a sign that you were growing. As a freelancer, I’ve sent proposals that stretched me out of my comfort zone. I’ve said “yes” to projects that scared me because they demanded skills I wasn’t sure I had. In those moments, I questioned myself: What if I mess this up? What if I’m not ready? But looking back, those were the very experiences that expanded my skills and confidence. Growth feels uncomfortable because it asks us to step into the unknown. It demands we let go of...