This reflection is for anyone doing change work.
That might be personal transformation, navigating a career or relationship transition, introducing new ways of working inside an organization, or trying to stay oriented amid cultural or political turbulence.
In all of these contexts, we eventually run into the same thing: ideas that make sense, intentions that are sincere, and energy that still get stuck.
Often, what creates the stuckness is not the strategy.
It is the story.
We don’t just tell stories about our lives
We live inside them.
Social metaphors help us make sense of complex experiences. They highlight certain truths and quietly hide others. They organize sympathy, explain decisions, and protect identity.
They are not lies.
But they are not neutral.
How social metaphors work
A social metaphor brings some things into focus while pushing others out of view.
It might emphasize:
- fear over agency
- liberation over responsibility
- harm over contribution
- intention over impact
Once a metaphor takes hold, it becomes a kind of shelter. It makes life intelligible and bearable. It also makes certain questions feel unnecessary, unfair, or even dangerous.
The metaphor does its job.
Until it doesn’t.
When metaphors become limiting
As long as a metaphor continues to:
- preserve identity
- attract validation
- allow forward movement
there is little incentive to question it.
Over time, however, the same metaphor that once provided clarity can begin to limit growth. It narrows what can be seen, named, or owned. Complexity gets flattened. Responsibility becomes asymmetrical. Certain patterns repeat without being examined.
From the outside, this can feel confusing or frustrating.
From the inside, it often feels stabilizing.
That difference matters.
The body knows before the story shifts
Most people do not exit a social metaphor through insight alone.
They exit when something tightens.
A familiar signal might appear:
- tension in the chest
- a hollow feeling in the gut
- agitation when the same conversation returns
- a sense that something true cannot be said
The body registers the limits of the metaphor before the mind is ready to let it go.
This is where real change begins.
A different move
Instead of asking, Is this story true?
a quieter question helps:
What happens in me when I hold this story?
That question does not attack the metaphor.
It does not demand a replacement.
It shifts attention from meaning to process.
From identity to presence.
A simple practice
When you notice a familiar story tightening:
- bring attention to your breath
- then to your heart
- then to your hara, the gut
Notice what the body is doing before deciding what the story means.
Later, reflect gently:
- What does this story protect?
- What does it make harder to see?
- What responsibility might be waiting on the other side?
You do not have to answer all of them.
Just noticing begins the loosening.
Over time
As attention returns to the body and to process, something changes.
Stories still exist.
Metaphors still function.
But they no longer run the whole system.
When that happens, growth stops feeling like accusation and starts feeling like integration.
Not because anyone was wrong.
But because more of the truth can finally fit.
A seed for later
This kind of awareness is most powerful when practiced with yourself first.
Applied outward too quickly, especially where trust is thin or stakes are high, it can activate threat responses and deepen the very dynamics it is meant to soften. This is why attempts at influence often backfire in families, organizations, and politics.
For now, noticing the metaphor you are living inside is enough.
For those with strong regulation, deep relational trust, and experience holding charged social fields, this same practice can later be applied outward with care, timing, and restraint.
If that possibility resonates, it may be worth staying curious about how such capacity is developed and practiced over time.
⛩️🌿
