Lifting the Weight of Progress

“How do I create urgency for myself to make progress on things important to me, like my spiritual journey and writing, without creating stress or panic that I’m not always doing things that align with these priorities?” I posed this question to a Buddhist teacher at the end of class.

My question was rooted in her teaching that night, and my struggle to properly digest similar Buddhist teachings. They emphasize samvega, the concept of developing urgency to make spiritual progress based on the rarity of human life and its being uniquely suited for spiritual practice.

For years, I wouldn’t pick up a book if it wasn't a Buddhist teaching. The message I internalized was why read anything else if I’m supposed to be making progress? But then I stopped reading entirely, because I didn’t always feel like reading those books.

Similarly with writing, if it’s important to me, shouldn’t I urgently be making progress? My life won’t go on forever. There are only so many days.

About this time last year, I had applied extreme pressure to myself—worse than basketball tryouts in high school. I planned to finally attempt to publish my decade-old memoir. I researched, enrolled in classes, and networked. Every minute I wasn’t working my day job or spending time with my family, I directed towards learning, reading, and editing. No TV, no naps, no scrolling, no breaks.

A dream emerged, and the pathway formed. I knew firsthand the profound reward of following my own trail; I had a lived experience of doing so that lasted for years. It brought immense joy and flow to my life to single-pointedly pursue the thing I wanted most.

But on this particular trail to publishing, I didn’t want to walk it. I wanted to sprint.

Photo by Laura Kapfer on Unsplash

Immersing myself in an industry I knew nothing about, the challenges unfolded. For example, as a non-celebrity, the chance of publishing a memoir is minute—especially with less than five thousand followers. So I started this Substack with hopes of growing it. While growth has happened, it’s been slow.

In early 2024, I also realized I needed to entirely rewrite my book. While the realization could have been daunting, it felt energizing. I wanted to bring to the story what I had failed to originally create.

While I’ve made some spiritual gains this year, I’ve taken some steps backwards. And I haven’t made much progress rewriting my book. This isn’t quite how I imagined the year would pan out.

The Buddhist teacher smiled gently before offering a thoughtful response.

“If you experience your pursuits as heavy or burdensome, they may be tangled in craving or attachment. You’re focused on the end goal. How you experience the journey is most important. Progress comes from a mind that is clear and joyful. If the path feels heavy, it may be that you are not ready, or perhaps the way you are holding it needs to change. Consider softening your grip, not loosening it. Allow the path to unfold naturally, without adding extra weight to what is already before you.”

Her response sat perfectly with me. A question I had asked myself a lot was, “Why must it be so heavy?” You can experience loss, disappointment, or hurt. And then you can also experience them by adding a layer of your own heaviness. I had certainly layered on stones to my spiritual and writing pursuits, and that additional weight was forcing progress while making me feel stressed, inadequate and guilty.

I find ease in believing I am exactly where I need to be. Though progress has slowed and is often non-linear, each step feels lighter. I’m learning to embrace this pace, understanding that it’s part of the balance I need to sustain, and I’m working to shift a lifelong tendency to be too hard on myself.

Wishing you a lighter 2025.

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