Watching Our Sandcastles Crumble

One of the most profound and painful lessons life often teaches us, again and again, especially when we choose to grow and evolve, is learning to watch our "sandcastles" crumble. These sandcastles are our cherished ideas and beliefs —fragile constructs that give us a sense of safety, stability, and identity. They are the beliefs that tell us who we are, how the world works, and how others should be. Yet, when life, in all its humility dismantles these castles, it can feel like a shattering of our very foundation.

We build these castles out of the need to feel good about ourselves. For example, I might believe that I am an honest person. This belief gives me a sense of pride and a feeling of integrity. But life, in its quiet wisdom, may present moments where I am tempted by dishonesty or where I realize that I have not always been as truthful as I imagined. In those moments, the castle of my "honest self" begins to crumble, exposing a deeper, more complicated part of me that I had previously not known.

Likewise, I might view myself as brave and courageous. It is a comforting belief to hold on to, one that elevates my sense of self-worth. But then, life puts me in a situation that shakes that belief—perhaps I freeze in the face of danger or shy away from confrontation or break apart after a loss. The realization that I am not as brave as I thought I was, is a hard blow.

This pattern plays out across a wide spectrum of beliefs. We might believe ourselves to be intelligent, logical, lovable, desirable, or caring. We cling to these self-definitions because they make us feel worthy. But life, in its unpredictability, has a way of presenting us with situations that reveal the limitations or contradictions within these beliefs. It shows us that we are not as perfect or as ideal as we thought, and this confrontation with our flawed humanness can be deeply painful.

The crumbling of our castles isn’t limited to beliefs about ourselves. We also hold on to cherished ideas about the people in our lives. Perhaps I would love to believe that my partner is always loving and caring, ignoring moments that might suggest otherwise. Or, I cling to the notion that my mother is a pious woman, choosing to overlook any evidence that challenges that belief. Ironically, these ideas about others form part of our identity and emotional security. To see them crumble is to watch our own world shift beneath our feet. We want to preserve these beliefs that have been comforting us for so long and thus we resist the crumbling of these.

Challenging are also the castles we build around our understanding of the world. Perhaps I grew up believing the world is a kind and fair place, and this belief provided me with a sense of safety. Yet, as I encounter the harsh realities of life—violence, betrayal, and injustice—I realize that the world isn’t always as kind as I once thought. This realization can feel like the ground shifting beneath me, leaving me groundless and vulnerable.

Allowing these sandcastles to crumble is a process fraught with grief, fear, and discomfort. When a cherished belief falls apart, it feels like a part of us is dying. We grieve the loss of our old ideas and the comfort they provided. There’s a deep sadness in realizing that we are not who we thought we were, or that the world isn’t as we imagined.

The process of growth is anything but easy. It is a slow, uncomfortable journey that requires us to confront parts of ourselves we’d rather ignore. It demands that we let go of ideas that no longer serve us, even if they once brought us comfort. And above all, it requires us to sit with grief—the grief of losing an old idea or image of ourselves and the world. This grief is not just sadness but also a fear of stepping into the unknown.

However, with every castle that crumbles, we are presented with a humbling opportunity to evolve. We move from old fascinating ideas that felt perfect towards new ideas that unfortunately are less than perfect, but fortunately more real.