Take what you like, and leave the rest...

Let's unpack that, shall we? Wise discernment, contempt prior to investigation, and a writing prompt...

Happy April! Thank you so much for being here. First I want to just let you know that we’ve introduced The Fountain Flow, a newsletter with updates about our membership-based platform, a community member spotlight, a writing practice, and more! You can check it out and subscribe here. It’s a lot of fun, and gives a little behind the scenes action. Alrighty, let’s dive right in to today’s topic!

We've all heard the adage “Take what you like, and leave the rest.” It’s a cornerstone of modern wellness philosophy, encouraging us to be selective about which advice, practices, or insights we incorporate into our lives. And on its face, this seems wise and empowering. Who wouldn't want to curate their personal growth journey? Collect the things that resonate into a basket and throw out everything else? It makes a lot of sense.

But I’ve been turning this phrase over the past few weeks. Something about it was itching at me. I left a long voicemail to my friend and business partner, Kim, about it, and as I verbally processed the idea, I came away with some clarity that I hope will be helpful for us here today. I know it was a good reminder for me.

Essentially, I came to the idea that there are three approaches to life I’ve observed (I mean, there’s many more, but for the sake of today we will use these three main types to make my point).

1. There are those, who when confronted with an idea for self-growth, immediately call up all the reasons it won’t work for them. Maybe they think it’s stupid or maybe they have worked up some idea that they are superior to xyz about the idea, and they are probably not going to try it. The sheer idea of whatever it is has already triggered a NO response in them. You might call this “contempt prior to investigation.”

2. Then there are those who are willing to try new ideas. They are open to “taking what they like and leaving the rest”. They will dabble with something but maybe not finish it. They will mistake talking about doing something for actually doing it (who among us is not guilty of this??).

3. Then there’s the all-inners. If I were to pinpoint when I became this type it was somewhere in childhood. I hated watching my parents spiral in addiction and never change. It made no sense to my little brain. I became very solution-oriented as a result. Later when I got sober myself and knew something about the insanity of addiction, I was given the “gift of desperation”—essentially, I became desperate enough to try anything to feel better. This means I didn’t really have the luxury of leaving things out. I had to try things I’d never done before if I wanted a new life. That math made sense to me. I couldn’t just do the steps I liked, I had to do all 12.

   When I really think about the processes that offered the deepest transformation, it’s not because I took only what I liked and left the rest. If I had done that, I’m not sure how far I’d have gotten. First I had to try things. Even the stuff I didn’t “like” upon first glance. And guess what? It’s the stuff I had the most judgements about and figured wouldn’t work for me that changed my life. (In my early twenties, yoga used to give me such horrible anxiety I wanted to crawl out of my skin. The reason: when I sat in stillness I was confronted with my depths. But I’m so glad I didn’t run out of the room and never look back. Now, I can’t live without it.)

   Of course, after some time, I took what I liked and left the rest, but not at the start of something. I don’t want to limit transformation and am willing to try something fully before discarding the parts I don’t like.

   *please know I am not talking about trying anything dangerous. I’m talking about, like, saying “I love you” to yourself in the mirror.

The Comfort Trap

When we only take what resonates, what feels good, or what aligns with our existing beliefs, we create an echo chamber. We end up reinforcing who we already are rather than becoming who we might be.

Growth rarely happens in comfortable spaces. Think about physical training—muscles don't strengthen without resistance. Similarly, our mental, emotional, and spiritual capacities expand most dramatically when challenged.

The Pain of Letting Go

Releasing old ideas is rarely a comfortable process. Our beliefs aren't just thoughts—they're integrated into our identity, our sense of safety, and our understanding of how the world works. When we encounter wisdom that contradicts these established patterns, the resistance we feel is more than intellectual disagreement. It's our whole system fighting to maintain equilibrium.

This pain serves a purpose. It signals that something significant is happening—that we're at the edge of transformation. Just as physical pain can indicate that muscles are rebuilding stronger than before, cognitive and emotional discomfort often precedes a breakthrough in understanding. Over time I’ve become an enthusiastic tryer in most regards. You want me to shake around for five minutes to release stuck trauma? Sure. I’ll try it. You say visualization can open the door wider to create inspiration? Sign me up. Try try try. Why not? It’s better than the alternative.

What We Resist May Be What We Need

And often, the very things we resist most strongly are pointing to our greatest opportunities for growth. The meditation technique that frustrates you might be addressing your need for patience. The journaling prompt that makes you squirm might be illuminating a shadow you've been avoiding.

When we take only what we like, we risk leaving transformation on the table. We choose the familiar over the transformative, comfort over catharsis.

A New Approach

I'm not suggesting we abandon discernment or force ourselves through genuinely harmful experiences. Rather, I propose we add a question to our personal growth toolkit: "What if the thing I'm most resistant to contains exactly what I need?"

Before dismissing a practice or idea because it feels uncomfortable, pause and ask whether the discomfort stems from genuine misalignment or from productive challenge to your status quo.

Writing Exercise: Exploring Your Resistance

Set aside 15 minutes with your journal and reflect on these questions: