BECOMING
5-31-25 SESSION
In this conversation on becoming, a group of young adults explored what it means to grow, change, and remain true to oneself across shifting landscapes of life. Their reflections surfaced a gentle tension between movement and stillness—between the desire to evolve and the unexpected wisdom of pausing. Some imagined becoming as a quiet process, like water reshaping stone over time, while others acknowledged a mistaken belief that growth must be dramatic or neatly structured. The group collectively began to loosen the idea that becoming is something to "achieve" and instead described it as a continual unfolding, often marked by uncertainty, inner reflection, and small moments of clarity.
Across many voices, a shared thread emerged: the false idea that becoming has a final destination. Some assumed it might stop with age or arrive with a title or accomplishment. But through storytelling—of leadership challenges, academic struggle, injuries, and quiet revelations—they uncovered that growth often happens in the in-between moments: the waiting, the doubting, the rebuilding. Rather than erasing who they were, real change seemed to peel back layers and draw them closer to their original values. They noticed how discomfort, when faced with awareness and humility, could lead not just to personal insight, but also deeper empathy for others.
There were also quiet contradictions. The desire to control one’s path sat beside the admission that much of life unfolds unexpectedly. The urge to please others ran alongside the hunger to protect time and space for authenticity. The group wrestled with questions they might ask “becoming” if it were a person, revealing curiosity about timing, presence, inevitability, and whether change happens even when we’re not conscious of it. Through these reflections, what emerged was not a fixed definition of becoming, but a layered and living conversation—honoring the individual while affirming the collective journey.
Key Themes:
Certain ideas returned again and again, revealing the core tensions and insights shaping how we understand growth. These themes reflect the push and pull between action and reflection, control and surrender, self and community. Together, they offer a deeper understanding of what it means to change without losing oneself—and to grow without leaving others behind.
Becoming Is Not a Destination
A powerful realization emerged that becoming is not about arriving at a perfected version of oneself. Many expressed that they had once assumed there would be a final version of who they were meant to be, but discovered instead that growth continues throughout life. Becoming was reframed as a process without an endpoint—fluid, adaptive, and often shaped by context rather than control. This theme emphasized that identity is not fixed but continuously unfolding.
The Tension Between Control and Surrender
The group surfaced a dynamic tension between wanting to guide their own evolution and recognizing that much of becoming happens in ways they can’t fully predict or manage. Some believed growth would be linear and fueled by confidence, only to discover it often comes in moments of uncertainty, isolation, and even failure. The desire to control was balanced with a growing respect for letting go, listening inward, and allowing change to happen on its own timeline.
Stillness as a Forgotten Teacher
While achievement and forward motion were often the defaults, many participants began to recognize the value of stillness—moments without striving, where insight quietly emerged. Stillness was seen not as stagnation, but as a fertile pause where reflection, healing, and self-awareness could take root. In a world that rewards productivity, the conversation revealed a hunger to reclaim stillness as a meaningful part of becoming.
The Quiet Weight of Expectations
A recurring theme was the subtle yet heavy pressure to perform, please, and prove oneself. Whether shaped by external expectations or internalized standards, this pressure often led to disconnection—from values, from purpose, and from self. Letting go of the need to have all the answers, to be liked by everyone, or to lead without visible doubt became a shared aspiration. The group named a desire to replace perfectionism with presence, and to make space for honest, imperfect, evolving selves.
As you explore these visual symbols of the conversation, where do you recognize your own thoughts or those of others within its narrative?
What symbols within the artwork speak to you, and what stories do you think they're trying to tell?
In what ways does the art challenge or expand your current perspectives on belonging?
How do the contradictions and paradoxes illustrated in the art resonate with your understanding or experience with belonging?
A CLOSER LOOK AT SYMBOLOGY
The Quiet Currents of Becoming
This image invites us into a layered experience of growth—not as a straight line, but as a spiral that moves through time, reflection, and change. The spiral at the center is not just visual; it’s symbolic of the non-linear truths shared in the conversation. Becoming doesn’t always happen with clarity or control. It moves quietly, often unnoticed, shaping us in stillness, in uncertainty, and in the spaces between moments. Many described becoming as erosion rather than explosion—slow, interior, and only visible in hindsight.
We do not perform to become. We sit with it, paint it, question it, and sometimes walk toward it without knowing where it leads. Just as we heard in stories of leadership, personal transition, and internal doubt, this image holds space for the vulnerability of seeing ourselves clearly, even when the image is incomplete. The painted self, the broken mask, the mirrored face—these elements are not decorative; they echo what it feels like to hold our contradictions and still move forward.
Digital fragments and distant temples speak to the noise of modern life—its pressures to project, perform, and produce. Yet amidst those distractions, we hold onto something real. We ask quiet questions, we reflect in solitude, we stay open to slow change. As one voice wondered aloud, “Are you there when I’m not looking for you?”—this image answers: yes. Becoming is not a performance. It’s presence. It’s the swirl we’re already in, even when we forget we’re moving.
The Light That Finds Us
This image captures four quiet realizations of growth—distinct in form, but bound by the shared truth that becoming often shows itself in hindsight. One moment we are letting go, dropping what no longer serves us. Another, we’re walking alone with only a small light to guide us, unsure of where we’re headed but aware that something in us is already shifting. These scenes reflect the stories shared about surrendering control, moving across cultures, and discovering strength not through certainty, but through presence.
We also recognize ourselves in moments of being seen—when others reflect hope back to us, even before we fully believe it ourselves. And then there are the private victories: the quiet pride of holding something that represents the journey, even if the path was uncertain. These are the marks of becoming not as a goal, but as a lived experience—layered, evolving, and often more internal than external. This image reminds us that growth doesn’t always come from chasing the light. Sometimes, the light finds us.
What Gets in the Way
This image gathers the quieter, heavier truths of becoming—the parts shaped by pressure, perfectionism, and self-doubt. It reflects the moments shared in conversation when growth felt stalled, distorted, or invisible. We see how routines can become cages, how the drive to perform can trap us, and how doubt can spiral until it’s hard to remember our direction. Here, the treadmill is more than a machine—it’s a metaphor for the invisible labor of trying to be enough. Around it, the post-its and trophies speak to a culture of constant motion and expectation, even when clarity is lost.
But this image also holds resilience. In each scene, despite isolation or fatigue, there’s a spark: a seated pause, a flicker of inner light, a runner’s outline still in motion. These represent what the group named as the most difficult but essential part of becoming—the capacity to keep going in the dark, to sit with the discomfort, and to listen through the noise. Growth, they discovered, doesn’t only happen in progress—it also happens in the pause, the doubt, and the moments we choose to reflect rather than retreat.
Conversation with Becoming
This image captures the imagined moment when we sit face-to-face with the idea of becoming—not as a concept, but as a presence. Each of us brings something to the table: an hourglass, a compass, a mirror, a growing flower. These are not props, but personal symbols representing the questions we carry. Some of us wonder about timing. Others ask how to tell when it’s time to let go or hold on. We ask if becoming is inevitable, and whether it happens even when we’re not looking for it. There’s no performance here, only stillness, curiosity, and honest inquiry.
What this image reveals is that becoming isn’t always something we chase—it’s something we can speak with, sit beside, even listen to. The light that radiates from the figure at the center doesn’t demand attention; it glows quietly, echoing the insight that growth is not always loud or immediate. Sometimes it comes in the form of being seen, or asking a question we don’t know how to answer. Sometimes it shows up in silence. This scene honors the conversation’s vulnerability, its courage, and its reminder that the path to becoming starts not with striving—but with presence.
What We Thought It Would Be
This image captures two conflicting yet coexisting narratives about becoming. On the left, we see the climb—rigid, defined, filled with signs that say “Not Yet” and “The Final Self.” This side reflects the misconceptions many named in the conversation: that growth is linear, marked by arrival, and defined by external benchmarks. It’s grayscale, heavy, and shaped by pressure—the belief that we must earn our identity through perfection, proof, and exhaustion.
But on the right, we encounter a softer truth. Becoming is not something to reach, but something to uncover. The figures here walk with lightness and flow, guided not by rigid steps but by color, breath, and a shared rhythm. The message on the banner is one the group arrived at through honesty and vulnerability: "Becoming is not changing who you are—it's discovering who you’ve always been." This contrast between striving and unfolding invites us to reflect on what stories we’ve inherited about growth—and which ones we’re ready to let go of.
From Perfection to Presence
This image contrasts two stories of becoming: the one we expect, and the one we come to understand. On the left, we follow the imagined path—tidy, goal-driven, marked by metrics of achievement and control. It’s the version many of us inherited: strive, perform, and arrive. Yet as we move right, the narrative begins to unravel. The path splinters, enters the woods, and shifts toward something less predictable and more internal. The so-called “finish line” is not where the journey ends, but where we begin to reflect—with the mirror placed not in front, but beside us.
This scene reflects many of the conversation’s insights: that becoming is rarely perfect, often nonlinear, and shaped just as much by doubt and stillness as by effort. We thought it would be a straight line; we learned it’s more like a spiral. We thought it would feel certain; we discovered it unfolds in fog, in pauses, and in quiet recognition of who we’ve always been. What this image captures is not just a shift in direction, but a shift in understanding—less about conquering the path, and more about walking it with awareness.
Mirrors and Mountains
This image captures the complexity and quiet revelations of the group’s conversation on becoming. Each traveler here walks a different path, not defined by a shared destination but by their own unfolding direction. One path ends entirely—forcing the traveler to step off and begin making a new one. This became a central insight in the discussion: that there is no single map for growth. Sometimes the road disappears beneath us, and the only way forward is to create the next step ourselves.
On the right, the mirrors sparked layered reflections. One participant noted how they serve as both mirrors and windows—holding the paradox of self-reflection and outward vision. They help us remember who we are, but also invite us to see through ourselves, into something beyond. This dual function—introspection and imagination—was echoed throughout the session. Growth, the group realized, isn’t just about looking inward; it’s also about seeing past the surface, past the version of ourselves we think is final. The mountain ahead may be daunting, even eruptive, but we’re not walking toward it alone. We walk with others, with questions, with awareness—and with the humility to know that the path of becoming is both seen and unseen, built as we go.
The Process Was the Point
This image reflects a journey many of us take—the shift from internalizing expectations to discovering deeper truths through lived experience. The three stages represented by the trees mirror how ideas of becoming were first shaped by cultural messages: to always move forward, to reinvent, to arrive at some perfected version of self. These assumptions, echoed throughout the group’s conversation, often led to pressure, over-performance, and the quiet belief that growth had to look a certain way.
But through honest reflection, discomfort, and dialogue, a new understanding emerged. Becoming, they realized, isn’t a finish line. It’s what happens when we pause, re-root, question, and care for the shape our life is already taking. The middle tree stands grounded in this wisdom—aged, imperfect, alive. The final figure does not strive upward but tends inward, embracing care over conquest. The distorted text at the base nods to how jumbled the early messages can be—and how powerful it is to rewrite them. In the end, the process wasn’t something to overcome. It was where the meaning lived all along.
What We Were Told, What We Heard
This image visualizes a core tension explored in the Becoming session: the gap between what we were told about growth and what we’ve come to understand through experience. Each seated figure rests beneath a sign—handwritten, slightly distorted, and filled with half-remembered truths. The phrasing is off, the grammar incomplete. That imperfection is intentional. It reflects the realization voiced repeatedly in the group: that the messages many of us grew up with about becoming were not only flawed—they were confusing, pressurized, and often misleading.
The image doesn’t resolve those messages. Instead, it honors the moment of pause beneath them. The young figures are not climbing or striving; they’re reflecting. The spirals beside them suggest internal motion—slow, inward, ongoing. The celestial elements overhead—sun, moon, stars—hint that time is still moving, even when we’re still. Becoming isn’t about arriving at what others expect. It’s about realizing that growth often happens despite the signs, not because of them. This image speaks not to the noise, but to the clarity that can emerge when we choose to stop, question, and listen differently.
The path of becoming isn’t walked alone. As others join the journey, your clarity, questions, and courage light the way for those still finding their first steps.
Surprising Discoveries:
Becoming is not simply about improvement or transformation—it reshapes how we see ourselves, how we relate to change, and how we make meaning of what we’ve been taught. The discoveries below surfaced not as conclusions, but as shifts in perspective—subtle, surprising recognitions that challenged assumptions and opened space for a more honest, more human understanding of growth.
Becoming Can Happen Without Our Permission
A surprising insight emerged around the idea that growth doesn’t always require intention or awareness. Several reflections revealed that people had changed profoundly without realizing it until later—often prompted by a sudden shift in environment or unexpected challenge. This called into question the belief that personal evolution must be deliberate, opening space for the notion that becoming can be quiet, background work unfolding beneath the surface.
Misconceptions About Growth Are Widely Shared
Despite each person's unique experiences, many discovered they carried similar hidden assumptions—that growth would be linear, confident, dramatic, or externally validated. Uncovering how widespread these misconceptions were—and how they quietly shaped behavior—was a revelation. This shared recognition created a sense of relief, as if the group had unknowingly been holding the same invisible weight and could now begin to set it down together.
Stillness Is Not Emptiness
What began as a group accustomed to achievement and movement gradually gave voice to the surprising power of stillness. Many equated stillness with boredom or passivity, only to discover that in those unstructured moments, they found clarity, grounding, and even growth. The realization that appreciating what could be seen as “doing nothing” could also be an essential part of becoming challenged cultural expectations of constant action and achievement.
Discomfort Is Not the Opposite of Growth—It Is Often the Catalyst
Several stories revealed that the most significant moments of transformation came not in triumph, but in doubt, failure, or discomfort. Academic pressure, injury, leadership uncertainty, and inner criticism all became unlikely teachers. This discovery reframed hardship as not something to avoid, but as a mirror that reflects who we are and what we’re becoming when things don’t go as planned.
There Is No Single Path to Becoming
While the conversation included many recurring themes, it became clear that each person’s experience of becoming was deeply personal and nonlinear. What resonated as growth for one person—like letting go of control or saying no—looked entirely different for another. This diversity of paths did not weaken the conversation; instead, it deepened it, underscoring that becoming is not a singular arc but a collection of unfolding stories, each valid and meaningful in its own way.
THE MULTARITIES OF
BECOMING
This conversation on becoming surfaced a rich weave of multarities—opposing truths, tensions, and layered paradoxes that live side-by-side in the process of personal growth. Rather than offering neat conclusions, the discussion revealed how becoming is shaped by forces that seem contradictory but are, in truth, deeply interconnected. Participants wrestled with agency and surrender, clarity and confusion, solitude and connection. They uncovered the subtle weight of expectations while also celebrating the freedom that comes from self-awareness. Through vulnerability, the conversation made space for the "both/and" nature of becoming—a dynamic unfolding that refuses to live in the binary.
Stillness and Motion
Becoming was described both as a quiet state of reflection and as a dynamic process of movement. Some felt most connected to growth in moments of action—taking on leadership or pushing past limitations—while others realized that stillness, presence, and surrender often led to the deepest insights. The group held space for both: the necessity of effort and the wisdom of pause.
Control and Letting Go
There was a tension between wanting to shape one’s own growth and acknowledging the parts of becoming that happen without consent or planning. Some spoke of needing to trust the process, even in discomfort, while others shared the importance of recognizing their own power in shaping decisions. Growth was seen as something you participate in—but not something you always steer.
Self and Others
Personal development emerged as both an individual and collective act. While many stories were about internal shifts, participants came to realize that becoming is often influenced—and even accelerated—by community, feedback, and relationships. Growth happens within, but it is revealed and refined in connection with others.
Clarity and Confusion
There was a widespread realization that becoming is rarely accompanied by certainty. Participants acknowledged that the most formative experiences often felt unclear in the moment—messy, isolating, or even disorienting. Yet over time, those very moments became anchors of transformation. Confusion, they discovered, is not the absence of growth, but often the place where it begins.
Strength and Vulnerability
The conversation highlighted that power does not always look like confidence or control. Leading through uncertainty, sharing doubt, asking questions, and setting boundaries were all framed as acts of courage. Vulnerability became a form of strength—a way of claiming one’s becoming without needing to have all the answers.
Individual Path and Shared Journey
Though each person's becoming looked different in shape and pacing, there was a shared realization that they were not alone. They described their journeys in unique terms, but with striking echoes—echoes that reflected collective human experiences of fear, hope, resilience, and reflection. This highlighted the paradox of becoming: it is deeply personal, and also deeply universal.
Imperfection and Worthiness
One of the most profound multarities was the idea that one can be unfinished and still enough. Participants shared how the drive to be right, to be liked, or to perform had sometimes disconnected them from their values. In contrast, they voiced a longing to believe that imperfection is not failure, but part of what makes us human. Becoming is not about reaching worthiness—it’s about recognizing it along the way.
OVERFLOW
We invite you to click on the images below to view them larger. As you explore these additional images, consider the conversations that may have shaped them. What moments, insights, or tensions do you recognize? Where do you find traces of yourself and your own story within them?
First Impressions
What drew your attention first when looking at these pieces?
How might this symbology connect to something you’ve experienced during the session?
Exploring Meaning & Symbolism
What symbols or metaphors stand out to you? What meanings might they hold?
How might this symbology connect to something you’ve experienced during the session or the conversation today?
How does this piece help us think differently or more deeply about the theme we're exploring?
Personal Resonance & Reflection
Which emotions does this symbology evoke for you?
Does this symbology/art shift your perspective on the issue we’re discussing? How?
How do you see yourself or your experiences reflected in the piece?
Dialogue & Group Reflection
How might someone from a completely different perspective interpret this artwork?
Where do you see points of unity or tension within this piece?
If this artwork could speak, what might it be asking or telling us as a community?
Moving Beyond Polarization
What symbols or elements in this piece illustrate the complexity of our issue?
How could reflecting on this symbology/art help us build greater empathy or understanding across divides?
In what ways might this symbology/art represent a Multarity—multiple truths existing simultaneously?
Towards Collective Insight
What new questions does this piece invite us to consider together?
How can the insights we gain from these symbols inform our next steps or actions as a group?
What wisdom do these symbols offer us about finding common ground or deeper connection?
Dear Youth Advisory Board,
There are conversations that linger long after they end—quietly reshaping how we think, feel, and imagine what’s possible. The one we shared with you today was exactly that.
Your willingness to bring not just your minds, but your questions, doubts, insights, and experiences into the space made this dialogue extraordinary. The way you explored becoming—not as a final goal, but as a process shaped by stillness, tension, surrender, and reflection—reminded us what it means to learn with humility and lead with heart. You honored complexity without rushing to simplify it, and in doing so, you modeled the kind of thinking the world urgently needs.
We are moved by your capacity to listen—to yourselves and to each other—with such curiosity, generosity, and care. The ideas you surfaced are now woven into the evolving fabric of the Multarity Project™, and they will inform how we continue to explore what it means to live, lead, and relate beyond binaries. We are deeply grateful for your presence, your questions, and your voices—and we're even more grateful to know this is only the beginning.
Thank you for showing up with such depth. We’re honored to walk this journey with you.
With deep gratitude and excitement about the future,
Ginger & Chris