The Spiral of Growth: The Sea Shell of Self-Improvement

“I Hear You,” mixed media by Erica Fraaije.

The painted portrait accompanying this post features a small yet significant sea shell integrated into the artwork. The shell’s spiral is a powerful metaphor for growth and self-improvement: a cycle of trying, reflecting, listening to oneself and others, and starting anew. Much like the creative process, it’s a journey of trial and error, with each turn offering a chance to learn and refine.

As a child, was I stubborn? Did I ignore good advice? Maybe a little. Like the time I decided to transform my tiny bedroom. My mother had warned, “Please, just leave it alone,” but I couldn’t resist. My grandmother was coming to stay, and I wanted my room to shine—my way.

What followed was a whirlwind of DIY enthusiasm. The wallpaper came down, the wood around the closet was stripped of its nail-studded trim, and the window frames became red. I dyed a wool blanket bright green in the washing machine to create a bold new bedspread. The small room, no more than two by two meters, became a striking space of contrasts: red window frames, bright white walls full of shadowy holes, and that green blanket. It wasn’t precisely cosy; it was raw and edgy.

My mother seemed mildly disappointed but didn’t interfere. Perhaps she thought, “Let her learn her lesson.” When my grandmother arrived, she took it all in silently. There was no lavish praise, no dramatic critique—though she was known for speaking her mind when she disapproved. It wasn’t until she left that I asked her directly, and she expressed her disapproval, and I felt it.

Still today, for me, criticism hovers over everything like a cloud. It is rarely softened, and it never seems to fade. Every creative endeavour I share is met with my preemptive critique as if I need to spot the flaws before anyone else can.

But perhaps there’s strength in that. That raw, imperfect room taught me the freedom to create—without fear, without waiting for others’ approval. The flaws weren’t failures; they were steps on a growth spiral. Like the sea shell in the painting, the creative process is cyclical: We try, reflect, listen—to ourselves and others—and begin again. When taking in critique, it is your heartbeat that you will hear.

Do you see the flaws first before anyone else can? What lessons have you revisited in your spiral of growth? And how have others’ critiques or reflections helped you along the way? Tell us all about it!