Measuring Up
Oct 21, 2026
Have you ever heard someone ask a question and thought, Oh, thank goodness. I thought I was the only one.
That's been one of the most beautiful things about watching our eighth Vessel cohort come together.
The conversations unfolding in our WhatsApp group. The thoughtful questions coming in. The honesty, the curiosity, and the wonderful realization that so many of us are navigating different versions of the same human experiences.
And as it happens each year, certain themes keep emerging.
Parenting. Relationships. Self-love. The places where we keep getting stuck, despite all the work we've done.
And perhaps the biggest question underneath all of them:
How do I know I'm actually growing when I keep finding myself in the same places?
I've been thinking about this question lately, especially watching people like Sarah (celebrating you Sarah, the one with all the questions! ❤️) demonstrate something I think we don't honor nearly enough.
The courage to keep asking. To keep showing up. To let growth be slow, steady, and sustainable instead of demanding some dramatic overnight transformation.
Which brings me, naturally, to my Fitbit.
A few months ago, when everyone was gearing up for the new school year, buying planners, organizing their lives, and making ambitious promises about how this would be the year they finally got everything together, I became slightly obsessed with buying a Fitbit.
Credit for this particular obsession goes to my friend and student Mimi of True North Astrology, who inspired the whole thing. And to Vivian, who encouraged me to just go for it because she knew I'd eventually get an email out of the experience.
Hi, Vivian. You were right.
I love data. I love tracking my steps, my activity, my oxygen levels, my breathing rate, my heart rate variability.
And most of all, my sleep.
Because let's face it, while Deeds is almost five, sleeping through the night is still not a thing.
But this time, I specifically wanted a Fitbit without a screen.
I've had the kind with screens before. And while I enjoyed all that information, I also knew how easily I could become preoccupied with checking it.
I didn't want another screen demanding my attention all day.
So I bought my screenless Fitbit, strapped it onto my wrist, and promptly forgot about it.
Well, almost.
I open the app twice a day. Once in the morning to see how I slept, and once in the evening to see how the day went.
And you know what I discovered?
I'm doing remarkably well without constantly checking whether I'm doing well.
Fourteen, fifteen thousand steps a day. Healthy activity levels. My breathing and heart rate variability looking good. Even my sleep is holding its own, considering the circumstances.
All of this happening while I'm simply going about my life.
And something clicked.
I thought I wanted a Fitbit because I wanted information.
But I think what I was really looking for was some measure of control.
If I could monitor everything, measure everything, keep an eye on every variable, perhaps I could feel a little more in charge of how things were going.
Except the most interesting thing happened when I stopped monitoring.
Nothing fell apart.
In fact, I was doing just fine.
I thought I needed more control. What I actually needed was a little more surrender.
Could it be that personal growth works exactly the same way?
We become so busy monitoring ourselves.
Am I more patient yet? Am I less reactive? Have I healed this? Why does this still bother me? Why am I having this conversation AGAIN? Shouldn't I be further along by now?
We start treating our inner lives like a dashboard of statistics, constantly looking for evidence that all this work is paying off.
And sometimes, in all that monitoring, we miss the growth that's actually happening.
Maybe you still get triggered by the same person, but you recover a little faster.
Maybe the same insecurity shows up, but you don't believe every word it tells you anymore.
Maybe you're still struggling with the same parenting challenge, but you've become a little more curious about what's happening instead of immediately blaming yourself.
The circumstances haven't necessarily changed.
But the person experiencing them has.
And that's not always something you can measure in real time.
There's a difference between paying attention to ourselves and keeping ourselves under constant surveillance.
One creates awareness.
The other can become another way of trying to control an experience that was never meant to be perfectly controlled.
I don't think the answer is to stop paying attention. That's certainly not what we're doing in Vessel.
But perhaps we can learn to do the work, stay curious, show up for our lives, and trust that something is happening even when we're not checking for proof every five minutes.
That's what I've been enjoying so much about this cohort.
Watching people ask better questions. Become more curious about themselves. Recognize old patterns with new eyes.
And remembering that sometimes, the most meaningful evidence of growth isn't that we've arrived somewhere new.
It's that we're learning to inhabit the places we've always been a little differently.
One step at a time*,
*see what I did there?
-----
The stunning new Vessel card deck will finally be available for purchase at the end of this month! These cards have been such a labor of love, and I get an absolute little thrill every time I hold them in my hands. I can't wait for you to have your own set. Stay tuned! ✨
Join the Mailing List!
Life happens in little bits. Learn to love the little bytes.
