I Know I Can. I Just Cannot.
I am standing at the edge of the swimming pool. 2,60m deep, the sign says. Blue, transparent, crystal clear. In a way, it’s beautiful.
It invites me. I swam there last week, and the week before, too. Right here, in the deep water.
We are not friends yet, but we know each other.However, what my brain sees today is not the beauty and the ease of floating.
It’s depth and danger. That suffocating feeling of lack of air underwater.I know I should jump.
But I cannot.
I am standing at the edge of the pool, and I just cannot move.
“I am here, you are safe” - the teacher says.
I trust her. I really do.
I want to jump, but my body denies. I am standing there, paralyzed.
I know I can. I just cannot.
I take a deep breath, almost jump, then... I step backwards.
I cannot see the water from the tears in my eyes.
I want this.
But my body cannot, not today.
I step forward again.
I am so close. I am paralyzed.
I sit down at the edge of the pool, my body shaking, my eyes are full with tears, my palms are sweaty and ice cold at the same time.
I cannot.
Not today.
In coaching, we talk about limiting beliefs a lot. There are so many methodologies, frameworks, and approaches for how to notice them, name them, and work through them.
But before we do any of that... can we just stop for a moment?
I think there’s something we often skip: the need to acknowledge these limiting beliefs.
They are not your enemy.
They are here for a reason.
They were born somewhere, in a home, in a classroom, at a dinner table, in moments and times when you learned that being too loud, too ambitious, too much of yourself made things... difficult.
And your younger self, in her quiet wisdom, adapted.
She learned to step back from the edge. To not jump.
To make herself small.
To stay safe.
And it worked. For a while, it really did. That belief kept you protected, it kept you accepted, it kept you from rocking the boat.
You felt small but safe, shaking but approved by others.
And you learned to ignore these signs, you learned to believe that this is how life works.
But here you are now.
You have changed.
You have grown.
You know you can.
You just... cannot. Not yet.
Your mind says “go”, but something deeper paralyzes you.
You step back instead of stepping forward.
Not because you are broken. Not because something went fundamentally wrong.
But because that old, scared part of you is still standing at the edge, still doing what it was taught to do.
Still keeping you safe from a danger that is no longer there.
The glass wall of limiting beliefs
I have my own limiting beliefs, too. We all do.
I am the person who cannot swim.
Who cannot be successful.
Who is not allowed to earn too much money.
Who is always less-than.
Who can never be good enough.
Who needs to be small to be accepted.
For long, I felt my life was in the dark fog, not seeing clearly, not being able to think clearly, not being able to move forward.
There were walls around, not only restricting my moves, but also blocking the view.
Living behind these walls was restrictive, and at the same time it gave me the feeling of safe and familiar.
Then later, slowly, the picture became clearer and clearer.
I started to set big goals.
I saw then, but still, they felt unreachable and impossible - at least, impossible for me.
I did not believe I could.
I am the one who cannot swim.
I am the one who cannot achieve these goals.
I am the one who cannot.
Looking back, I know I could.
Looking ahead, I’m paralyzed.
What I see know are still walls but made of glass, completely transparent, crystal clear - but impossible to walk through.
I can see my goals. I know what I want.
I know I can achieve them.
But that glass wall is there. I cannot move. I cannot do.
I hit the wall again and again when I try.
I feel blocked and paralyzed.
However, if there’s an emergency that pushes me forward, I go, hit and kick the wall until it breaks, making it space for me to move forward.
I fight, I break through, I move forward.
I know I can.
I have done this so many times...
However, if there is no emergency... there is nothing to escape from... there is no danger or threat that makes the move necessary... I just stand in front of the glass wall, I see my goal on the other side, the new path, the life that would be possible.
And I just stand there, silently.
I know I could, but I do nothing.
It feels so much safer to stay on this side...
So often, we avoid changes. We are paralyzed to move forward.
We are afraid to break the glass wall.
We are afraid that breaking the wall would hurt too much.
We are afraid what others will think.
We are afraid to jump.
We are afraid of changes.
We are afraid of failure.
We are afraid of success.
We stay in the job.
We stay in the bad marriage or relationship.
We stay being identified the person who cannot swim.
We don’t break through the glass wall and we stay in the perceived safety of the uncomfortable familiar.
But somewhere, something in us, dreams about breaking free.
Don’t destroy, push aside
One day, while having a conversation with my coach, talking about swimming, being paralyzed, and also how this is as an analogy of my life, my progress, my fears, and more... he made me realize: I am the one who owns the glass wall.
These glass walls are set up by me.
They stand where I put them.
They used to protect me.
Today, they are limiting beliefs that I created for myself, but I don’t need anymore.
They all show me what my life could be - but they also make me stay behind, in the safe and familiar.
And if I am the one who has built these glass walls, to protect me... and if these dangers don’t exist anymore... how could I remove them?
How can I move forward?
To jump?
To be free?
You still think you are the person who cannot swim.
But that was a year ago.
The today-you can swim very well.
Can you believe in her?”
And then something clicked.
What if... I asked myself. What if I don’t have to destroy these glass walls?
What if it doesn’t need to be painful?
What if can simply move them aside?
I started to visualize this during my meditations, the glass walls slowly moving aside, giving me space and air, more and more.
When making business plans.
When planning a new home.
When having a difficult conversation.
When thinking about my future.
And when I am at the pool, again.
I am at the swimming pool again, standing at the edge.
2,60m deep, the sign says. Blue, transparent, crystal clear. In a way, it’s beautiful.
It invites me. I swam there before.
I stood exactly here last time, paralyzed.
I see the depth, and I see the glass wall that prevents me from jumping.
I see how it tries to protect me.
“You cannot swim. Don’t jump. It’s dangerous.” - it shouts.
“Yes, I can.” - I whisper.
Gently, I push the wall aside. It’s moving away, slowly.
And I jump.
Now, it’s your turn.
Take a deep breath.
Move your glass walls, shift your limiting beliefs.
You can.