You have put into words a deep longing I have had for some months now. It's so easy to latch onto all that is 'new' while simultaneously forgetting the most genuine parts of ourselves that no new thing can take the place of. That one line about reinvention really being remembering... YES! So good!
This was beautiful to read, Ryan! I think a lot of our perception of aesthetics can sometimes come from our own perfectionist tendencies as humans (at least, I know it is for me). So, that moment when we find new thoughts that spring out, new shades that begin to form, and new ideas that begin blossom, rather than being stagnant in what we were trying to become in our own view of ourselves— that's when growth and innovation happen! I think it's similar how Paul put it, in leaving the things that are behind yet pressing forward to the goal in Christ. I don't think we can take all the "figs" as much as we want to. That's where other people can step in. But we take figs we need to, and pursue those pathways. For me, it's musicology. For someone else, it's archaeology. But if we have the goal, that "fig," we can begin to press on in sharing it and making it into something. Thank you as always for ponderous words!
hey, thanks so much for the super thoughtful comment! you have great ideas that build on the point i arrived at but with different emphases i didn’t have space to expand on! i especially like your thoughts on continuing to grow “our figs” and the relational implication with the ones that aren’t meant for us, they belong to others and will flourish with them. thank you for reading and for the encouragement!
I smiled at the planners-in-a-new-shade-of-green ritual — there’s something intoxicating about a blank page and the illusion of a clean break. I know that itch. The quiet thrill of thinking, “This time I’ll do it differently.”
But I love where you landed: that constant reinvention can drift into self-abandonment. That hit. Sometimes we’re not evolving — we’re escaping.
The fig tree metaphor is perfect here. The fear isn’t just choosing one future over another. It’s believing we have to become someone entirely new to deserve the one we choose.
“Reinvention is really remembering” feels like the wiser, steadier version of a rebrand. Not burning it all down — but returning to the colors, the music, the parts of you that got traded for approval or momentum.
The most powerful shifts in my own life haven’t come from becoming someone else. They’ve come from circling back to what was always true and finally honoring it.
Here’s to the branches — not the performance of newness, but the courage to be more fully yourself.
this was incredible!! i too struggle with starting things and leaving them unfinished
thank you so much for reading and resonating!! <3
You have put into words a deep longing I have had for some months now. It's so easy to latch onto all that is 'new' while simultaneously forgetting the most genuine parts of ourselves that no new thing can take the place of. That one line about reinvention really being remembering... YES! So good!
i’m so happy it resonated with you, holly—thank you so much for reading and for your kind words! happy new year!
Loved this so much. :)
Happy New Year!
happy new year! thank you so much for reading!
I loved every single word of this. I felt it to the depths of my soul. <3
brooke, your comment alone made my writing worth sharing! thank you so much for reading, i’m so thankful it resonated deeply! <3
And fallen figs make such fertile soil for new and unexpected little plants, don’t they?
a beautiful thought! thank you for reading and for sharing!
This was beautiful to read, Ryan! I think a lot of our perception of aesthetics can sometimes come from our own perfectionist tendencies as humans (at least, I know it is for me). So, that moment when we find new thoughts that spring out, new shades that begin to form, and new ideas that begin blossom, rather than being stagnant in what we were trying to become in our own view of ourselves— that's when growth and innovation happen! I think it's similar how Paul put it, in leaving the things that are behind yet pressing forward to the goal in Christ. I don't think we can take all the "figs" as much as we want to. That's where other people can step in. But we take figs we need to, and pursue those pathways. For me, it's musicology. For someone else, it's archaeology. But if we have the goal, that "fig," we can begin to press on in sharing it and making it into something. Thank you as always for ponderous words!
hey, thanks so much for the super thoughtful comment! you have great ideas that build on the point i arrived at but with different emphases i didn’t have space to expand on! i especially like your thoughts on continuing to grow “our figs” and the relational implication with the ones that aren’t meant for us, they belong to others and will flourish with them. thank you for reading and for the encouragement!
Ryan, this is such a tender take on reinvention.
I smiled at the planners-in-a-new-shade-of-green ritual — there’s something intoxicating about a blank page and the illusion of a clean break. I know that itch. The quiet thrill of thinking, “This time I’ll do it differently.”
But I love where you landed: that constant reinvention can drift into self-abandonment. That hit. Sometimes we’re not evolving — we’re escaping.
The fig tree metaphor is perfect here. The fear isn’t just choosing one future over another. It’s believing we have to become someone entirely new to deserve the one we choose.
“Reinvention is really remembering” feels like the wiser, steadier version of a rebrand. Not burning it all down — but returning to the colors, the music, the parts of you that got traded for approval or momentum.
The most powerful shifts in my own life haven’t come from becoming someone else. They’ve come from circling back to what was always true and finally honoring it.
Here’s to the branches — not the performance of newness, but the courage to be more fully yourself.
💛 Kelly