On Images from the Past

Often it’s easier to build new neural connections than to rewire the ones already there. That’s why relearning can be harder than learning from scratch. I came to know this in tennis, where it took me years to shed the playing style drilled into me at the start: instead of hitting away from my opponent, I kept stubbornly hitting straight at him — the way I once hit to my coach.

This paradox isn’t only about sport, or skills in general. It’s about the images of people that harden in our minds.

Have you ever felt that the people who’ve known us for a long time sometimes still see us as we were years, even decades, ago? We’ve renewed ourselves completely, right down to the cellular level — to say nothing of the mental and spiritual shifts — and yet to them we’re the same as ever. A set of old memories, a snapshot frozen in their minds that they’d rather not update, because updating it takes desire and effort.

Sometimes this shows up in how people react to our new ideas, our ventures, our actions and roles. Instead of support, we hear objections, criticism, and a whole list of reasons we’re “not ready.” As if we had no right to act in a new way until someone else has signed off on our changes.

Strangely enough, when I started my Telegram channel, some of my old friends met it coldly, with skepticism — while the gratitude came from strangers who saw something of value in the texts. The same thing has happened with my business ideas.

It happens that a new hire grasps freshly written rules and procedures on the spot, while the “veteran” keeps running the outdated playbook — even when it harms the very work he himself sincerely loves.

There’s no point fighting someone else’s resistance to change. Life is like a river, always moving. And whatever stops flowing eventually dies off on its own.

What matters is going where we can be our “today” self. And learning to notice, for ourselves, how the people around us are becoming someone new — discovering them again each time. Looking that way fills you with gratitude and inspiration: we see what truly matters to them, the thing no one else has gotten around to noticing yet.

I’ve noticed this: those who change quickly themselves feel the changes in others more finely. Your own growth keeps your focus on the present, not the past.

Here’s to seeing people as if for the first time. To seeing their growth. To supporting change. And to changing ourselves — lightly, flexibly, freely! 😎