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- When You No Longer Need to Prove
When You No Longer Need to Prove

Welcome to Letters of Wonder — a space to explore the truths behind clarity, creation, and what it means to live a truly wonderful life.
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No hard feelings at all, I totally get it :)
“You can’t calm the storm… so stop trying. What you can do is calm yourself. The storm will pass.”
A lot of time, we live in reaction.
We try to calm the storm of judgment, comparison, or criticism.
But the more we try to fix the external, the more we lose our internal.
This happens especially when we’re trying to prove something.
I was just recently having a great conversation around this with a friend.
Think back to a time someone said something that hurt.
Let’s say that they called you anorexic (as I’ve been called when I was younger).
So you trained harder and got disciplined.
You changed.
But it came from fire, not peace.
And even though you transformed, the pain didn’t truly leave until you saw the truth: Their comment wasn’t about you.
It was a projection of themselves.
You were trying to calm a storm that wasn’t yours to begin with.
And if this process of working out in the gym helped make you a better person or more healthy, that’s beautiful.
But what if it wasn’t something you cared about at all?
What if that person made fun of you for not being good at a sport?
So you spent 2 years of your life getting better, only to realize your heart was never in it in the first place?
When you stop trying to prove and act from inner harmony - you create beauty.
And this isn’t for approval or validation.
It’s just because it feels right.
That right there is real freedom.
The ego seeks applause. But the soul seeks alignment.
You may succeed chasing approval.
But you’ll only find yourself when you no longer need to.
Becoming a Warrior in the Garden
To even know what you want, you must first become still.
You must anchor into presence.
The part of you that cannot be shaken.
That’s the foundation of a warrior.
But not the kind who walks with armor on at all times.
The real warrior is calm and peaceful.
He knows who he is—so he doesn’t need to prove it.
And when you're rooted in that depth, you don’t have to keep your guard up around others.
You can be soft and open.
Because your softness is no longer weakness.
It’s a choice.
That’s what it means to be a warrior in the garden.
Unshakeable within and loving in expression.
There was a beautiful story that I heard on a podcast I was listening to.
(I'm paraphrasing here)

And the author thought to himself: “how many times must the world have been cruel to this man for a compliment to feel like an attack?”
And with that, he quietly walked away.
This story is beautiful for 2 reasons:
You can always choose to respond with love.
You can love while still setting a boundary.
That is the essence of the Warrior in the Garden.
The author was the warrior.
He didn’t react or take offense.
He was unmoved by the man’s anger.
And he set a boundary by walking away.
But he also stood in the garden.
He was rooted in compassion and soft in his heart.
He saw the pain beneath the reaction and chose not to meet fire with fire.
When you are anchored in yourself, and carry love within and strength beneath, you become unshakeable.
Nothing others say or do can shake your peace.
Yes, there may come a time when the warrior must rise.
When a boundary must be drawn that is clear and firm.
And when that moment comes, you'll be ready.
But the beauty is, you don’t have to live in battle.
You don’t always need the armor.

A Simple Framework

We all face moments that test us.
The key isn't to never feel triggered.
It’s to evolve our response.
There are three ways we respond to life’s challenges - each one a step higher in inner mastery.
Level 1: We react.
Level 2: We learn to pause.
Level 3: We learn to alchemize.
From storm… to stillness.
Level 3 is how a warrior rests in the garden.
The Samurai and the Monk
A hot-headed samurai once came across a peaceful monk meditating in the forest.
Mocking him, the samurai shouted:
“If you’re so enlightened, tell me the difference between heaven and hell.”
The monk opened his eyes slowly, looked at the warrior, and said:
“You’re nothing but a brute. You don’t belong in this sacred forest. Your sword is dull, your heart even duller.”
The samurai turned red with rage. He drew his sword, trembling with fury.
The monk said, calm as ever:
“That… is hell.”
The samurai froze. A breath. A pause. Realization hit him like a wave.
He dropped his sword, tears in his eyes.
“And that…” said the monk, “…is heaven.”
The Buddha’s Practice
It’s said that the Buddha would spend hours in meditation.
He wasn't just observing his breath, but sending love to others.
He would begin with himself… then his loved ones… then people he felt neutral toward… and eventually, even those who had wronged him.
And over time, this practice wasn’t just a meditation.
It became his state of being.
It transformed his nervous system.
And through this quiet act of compassion, he awakened.
Attaching a beautiful passage about this from the book "Buddha" by Karen Armstrong.

