Don’t Let The World Erode You

A thought that comforts me in extreme moments of overwhelm is, “We’re all just floating on a rock in the middle of space.” But then, inevitably, I start thinking about rocks.

Do you ever think about rocks? Maybe you recall the rock cycle from 5th grade science class: sedimentary, igneous and metamorphic. Each one formed by intense physical changes in their environment like compacting, melting, cooling, and eroding. 

Of all of them, the igneous rocks were always the most intriguing. Born from an explosive eruption from the Earth, the lava cools to magma and slowly solidifies. They’re created in chaos and immediacy, only to cool and harden into tiny interlocking crystals. I remember the photos in my elementary science textbook: volcanic cliffs jutting out from the Earth on islands in the Pacific, jagged and unapologetic. Imperfect. 

 “Here I am” they say. “I exist here now.”

And yet, over time, they change. They erode. Under the whipping of wind or the endless thrashing of the ocean, the rocks enter a life-long metamorphosis. The once jagged rock becomes smooth. There are curves where there were once edges. It is different from how it started, but still undeniably itself.  

We’re all floating on a rock in space, but maybe we have more in common with our foundation than we realize. 

Just like rocks, our environments shape who we are as humans. I want you to imagine your environment is a delicate ecosystem, where even the smallest imbalance–too much of a good or bad thing–can be detrimental to its health. 

Obviously, our home, professions, friends, and family make up the general framework of our environment. These tangible factors shape what our life looks like. But our environment also includes our routines, our morals and beliefs, the culture both grew up in and currently surround ourselves in, and our mental landscape. These more abstract details consciously and sometimes unconsciously mold our lives and impact the framework of our day-to-day lives. 

Maybe we consciously make an effort to achieve early morning workouts yet unconsciously nitpick our physique. Perhaps we consciously make a committed effort in our role at work, only to unconsciously and simultaneously doubt our abilities. Or worse: we consciously and intentionally speak kindly to and about ourselves, yet unconsciously cling to contradictory, negative thoughts.

These unconscious effects don’t happen out of nowhere. Everything we do and believe has an origin, and it all ties back into the influence of our environment. 

In a time of influencers and the unsatiated monster that is social media, we are inundated with various streams of consciousness at all times. Everyone–including myself–believes they have hacked the system and wholeheartedly thinks that they’ve pioneered a method to help others achieve the highest version of themselves. Maslow is rolling in his grave watching us trip over each other’s diluted ideologies. 

Whether you admit it or not, the beliefs ingrained in your own programming likely came from years of both conscious and unconscious programming, all stemming from your environment. The movies we watch, the books we read, the music we listen to. Even in pursuits of pleasure, our environment is constantly forming. We, too, are in a constant state of metamorphosis. 

Now do you see why it is crucial to tend to your environment like a delicate ecosystem? 

It’s both beautiful and daunting how different environments can cultivate different versions of ourselves. There are people, jobs, relationships, and seasons that weather us down just as there are alternatives of each that foster growth. We adjust in real time, unconsciously shifting and adapting to survive, fit in, or stay safe. But there is a difference between growth and erosion: growth propels you forward after conscious, repetitive and healthy efforts. Erosion sands you down and reshapes you whether you choose it or not.

Where in your life have you changed not because you wanted to, but because you had to?

Most of the time, where we plant ourselves determines our growth or erosion. You’re a brilliant obsidian glass protruding out of the land. Every day, you’re met with the ocean’s force as water slaps against the tiny, interlocking crystals of who you are. And every day, it shapes you into something new, and sediments of who you were chip away. 

But sometimes, we sand ourselves down for the sake of our environment. There’s a quiet grief in becoming unrecognizable to yourself. One day, you look in the mirror and are shocked by your own appearance, not because of wrinkles or imperfections, but because it doesn’t match the idea of who you are in your head. 

Maybe you believe you’re out of shape and lazy, no matter how consistent your workout routine is. Or maybe, you constantly bash yourself for mistakes made at work, even though your boss initiates conversations about a raise or a promotion. We don’t recognize ourselves because there’s a mismatch between our beliefs and behaviors; between who we tell ourselves we are and who the world tells us we are. This misalignment creates a fracture, a cognitive dissonance. 

Cognitive dissonance generates internal distress. Think about when you’re watching a horror movie, and during the climax–the boogeyman has found the final girl or the haunted house becomes alive–instead of loud, low-pitched background music, we hear a happy and playful song. The scene becomes even more eerie. 

Between our own disconnect within ourselves, an uncomfortable feeling arises when you realize that two opposite ideas could be true. It forces us to admit to ourselves that we may be wrong about one of them. When we don’t, our beliefs and actions don’t align, so we do anything to avoid addressing this awkward unease. We fake our feelings, plastering a smile on our face during the times we feel the most upset. We agree and comply with others, even though we couldn’t disagree more, just to avoid conflict or drama. 

But over time, this chips away at you, causing an even greater divide between your genuine desires and your physical actions. We slowly mold ourselves to be easily digestible for our environment, at the expense of ourselves. 

Preventing this slow erosion of ourselves starts with accepting the uncomfortable feeling and consider which line of thought must be right and which must be wrong. We either change the behavior or change the belief. Otherwise, our environment will choose for us. 

But, remember, you are the master of your environment. Ask yourself, where have I softened out of force rather than desire?

For everything erosion takes, it never steals the core. Even rocks that have been weathered for centuries still hold the same minerals, the same original composition they began with. The exterior smooths, shifts, and transforms, but the inner structure maintains its origins.

The same is true for you.

There is a version of you beneath what life has carved away over time–your humor, your instincts, your values. The quiet truths you clung to long before the world told you who to be. These parts of yourself are so deeply embedded in your makeup, they do not vanish. They simply lay dormant, buried under layers of adapting, surviving, pleasing, and performing. And must like rocks reshaped by the tide and time, you can forget what your original form even looked like. 

This last year eroded me. I am now smooth and jaded in places where I was once whole. Life kept coming at me, again and again, and I had no choice but to let it. So now I ask myself: who am I beneath what life has carved away?

Reclaiming your original form isn’t about going backward, but instead returning to a past version of yourself and undoing every forced adaptation you ever made. It’s a conscious decision to choose who you become rather than defaulting into the shape your environment tries to assign you. It will require intention, curiosity, and rebuilding an environment that nurtures instead of consumes.

Reclaiming your original form is choosing the environment you exist in on purpose. It’s a commitment to self that you will no longer be shaped solely by what happens to you and instead build a life that expands you, instead of erodes you. 

While you may feel jaded and worn, let me remind you that in the face of erosion and adversity, you never gave up. But now, you are no longer at the mercy of the waves. The next version of yourself is not predetermined. You get to decide. 

Trust that the core of you–the part that has weathered every storm–knows exactly where to lead you next.