Are You Motivated to Be Successful

The Principle of the Rubber Band: This principle explains that being stretched can turn out to be very positive. Imagine you hold one end of a rubber band in one hand while stretching the opposite end with your other hand. The more you stretch the rubber band, the more it wants you to let go of it so it can come back to its original position. It just wants to return to its place of comfort.

Yet if we continue stretching it, that rubber band will eventually grow into a new size. When we let go of it now, it will come back some, but not the entire distance. In essence, it has developed a new dimension.

Now imagine that you dip this original rubber band into hot wax and remove it quickly. You then allow the wax to dry. At this point, if you repeat the stretching exercise you’ll notice that the wax caked around it cracks and crumbles, as you extend the rubber band. Then it falls off.

The same dynamic occurs with humans. We don’t want to get stretched, because it will involve letting go of some external layers. We are comfortable within those layers, and they may even seem to be protecting us. Yet, in fact, they are getting in the way of the new, evolving being who we already are on the inside. They are an impediment to our growth.

Like that rubber band, we must temporarily experience being uncomfortable when we stretch and grow. In the process of becoming the butterfly we were metaphorically meant to be, we are outgrowing a cocoon. The butterfly doesn’t snip off its wings and re-enter the cocoon. It knows of no such thing. But we, as human beings, have a tendency to snip our own new-grown wings so we can retreat to the cocoon that represents our old zone of comfort. Unfortunately, the zone of comfort is seldom the territory of fulfillment. The butterfly has no choice.

As human beings we have the ability to make choices. The next time you are feeling stretched and uncomfortable, pat yourself on the back and say "Good for me. I must be growing!" In fact, if you are not stretching, growing, and evolving, then you are probably too attached to being comfortable. A true lesson of life and a new level of wisdom will both arrive when you instead respect The Principle of the Rubber Band.

It is absolutely crucial that you must not judge, criticize, and compare yourself to others while you are being stretched. To do so will only make you feel stuck. You will focus on the pain of stretching, and want to go back to your old cocoon. Instead, treat yourself as compassionately as you would a child who is learning to ride a bicycle without training wheels. Give yourself extra nurturing. Drink a cup of hot tea, go for a walk, read a book, take a few deep breaths, and above all be patient. Training wheels have allowed that child to develop a sense of balance, to know how the bicycle is ultimately going to feel under their control. But if that child doesn’t eventually ride without training wheels, they will never experience how fast they can truly go, how sharply they can maneuver around obstacles, and how self-confident they can feel.

Therefore, always strive for the courage to take the extra wheels off. And one day you will do it. Because you realize that remaining in the "training wheel zone" will prevent you from reaching a new level in life of manifestation and creation.

Now imagine that you are a gardener who tends a rose bush. You notice a new green bud that appears, but as the days go by it remains closed. It’s afraid of opening up. It is resisting the processes of blossoming, changing, and stretching.

Alongside it there is another new bud, one that has decided to open up and – in spite of the possibility of cold rain, tornadoes, and hurricanes – it has further decided to blossom. Once it has opened, people passing by are inspired to notice its beauty, smell its fragrance, and touch its silky pedals.

When eventually that rose dies, it’s petals fall all round. People who walk close by notice the pedals on the ground, and they know that a fully blossomed rose once existed. Meanwhile, the unopened bud also dies. It shrivels, crumbles, and falls away.

No one but the gardener ever noticed that it was alive or even notices now that it has gone.