To the deep thinkers,
Welcome to the Deep Thinkers Newsletter: A collection of essays dedicated to going beyond the surface.
If you’re new here, check out the Deep Thinkers archive.
Like many kids, you may not have known what you wanted to be when you grew up, but you probably knew one thing: you wanted to create.
I was the same. Hours disappeared as I conjured stories in my head, sketched characters, and wrote tales that felt more real than my everyday life. Reading books, drawing comic strips, and writing short stories were my sanctuary. I even won an award for a story I wrote in second grade. (Who judged it award-worthy is beyond me, but I took the recognition as my first real sign of validation.)
Over time, though, the passion I held for my creations began to fade. The first passion to go was writing. Traditional English classes darkened the spark that once shone bright. These classes felt rigid and unimaginative, as if success meant coloring perfectly within the lines. There was no room for expression or risk, just rules and rubrics. So, I assumed I wasn’t cut out to be a writer, and I slowly abandoned the worlds I'd built in my head, letting them rot in the corners of my imagination.
Time to grow up, I thought to myself.
You have to leave these childish things behind.
So I did—abandoning what I felt were immature hobbies, and believing that writing and learning were exclusive to what I saw within the public school system. And this line of thinking laid the groundwork for the most destructive belief I would hold about myself for a very long time.
That belief told me: You are not creative.
And I'm not alone in this. Many people leave parts of themselves behind, convinced they’re just being "realistic."But what feels like growing up is often just the first shadow figure taking residence in our minds.
The shadow army
Picture it: a shadowy figure in the corner of your mind, whispering that you're not good enough, not ready, not the type. It offers doubt, cloaked in the illusion of truth. Over time, its voice weaves itself into your identity. You stop questioning it. And soon, that first figure recruits another. Then another. Until there’s an entire army of shadow figures in your mind doing everything they can to hold you back.
These are your limiting beliefs—mental blocks shaped by fear, shame, or past experience. They often start as defense mechanisms, meant to protect you from pain. But over time, they become bars on a cage you didn’t know you were building.
One of the most common shadow figures is age. When I turned 30, I thought I was too old to pursue writing. (Insane, I know.) I believed I'd missed my window, that my path was already set in stone.
But the funny thing about age as a limiting belief is that it works both ways. Some people think they’re too young to be taken seriously; others believe they’re too old to reinvent themselves.
Colonel Harland Sanders started KFC at 65, turning a roadside chicken recipe into a global franchise. Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein at just 18—a novel that continues to shape literature 200 years later. After a career in journalism, Vera Wang entered the fashion world at 40.
Reinvention doesn’t have an expiration date.
Wisdom doesn’t always wait for gray hairs.
Another insidious shadow figure feeds on anxiety over other people’s opinions. When you allow the fear of judgment, real or imagined, to shape your choices, you start living a life that doesn’t belong to you. Your decisions become acts of quiet conformity, rooted in appeasement instead of authenticity.
Think of the person who stays in a soul-draining job to meet family expectations, or the artist who hides their work because they’re afraid it won’t be well-received. How many lives have been muted in the name of other people’s comfort?
These internal narratives keep you from speaking up, ending toxic relationships, or pursuing the things that light you up. And while not every belief deserves to be discarded, each one should be examined. Where did it come from? Who gave it to you? Does it still serve you?
Are your beliefs helping you evolve, or quietly keeping you stuck?
When the army takes control
The shadow figures don’t just whisper; they build cycles that trap you.
When I feel low, I stay in bed. I isolate myself. I avoid responsibility. I chase dopamine through vices that leave me emptier than before. Why? Because I feel bad.
But the longer I indulge those habits, the worse I feel. That’s how the shadow army retains control: you feel bad, so you do things that leave you feeling worse. And all the things that might help—movement, connection, creativity—are abandoned. It becomes one giant self-fulfilling prophecy.
These beliefs are emotional. You don’t try because you’re anxious. You don’t speak up because you’re embarrassed. You don’t take the leap because you’re afraid of failure.
But here’s the truth: action creates clarity.
If you want to feel different, you have to do something different.
The shadow army urges you to wait until you feel ready, until you’re certain, until the stars align. But that day never comes. And if you keep making excuses (even valid ones), eventually time will have passed you by, and all you’ll have to show for your efforts is a pile of all your excuses.
Fighting back
To wrestle with your limiting beliefs is a lifelong battle. But every win matters. I still have days where I spiral into doubt. Sometimes those days stretch into weeks. But some seasons are like that. And simply staying in the fight is victory enough.
When I’m lost in the fog of my own limiting beliefs, these practices help me find my footing:
Interrogate the Shadows
The shadow figures aren’t just enemies—they’re teachers.
When fear has you in a chokehold, ask yourself:
What if I’m wrong?
Why do I believe this?
Where is the proof?
Does this belief serve me now?
By pulling apart the thought, you take back your power. Most of the time, you’ll find the belief is outdated, irrational, or inherited.
Try On New Beliefs
Can you imagine a belief that supports the life you want? Try it on. You don’t have to fully believe it—just experiment.
Instead of “I’m not creative,” try “I’m learning to express myself.”
Instead of “I’m too old,” try “I’m exactly the right age to start.”
What would change if you adopted that belief, even temporarily?
Test Through Action
Don’t just affirm. Act.
If you believe you can’t write, write one paragraph.
If you think you’re not a leader, lead one small project.
Let experience—not fear—be your compass.
Build Your Case
Become your own lawyer. Gather evidence.
Try the prompt: “I will succeed in my creative pursuits because…”
Here are a few examples:
“…I have a unique perspective shaped by my experiences.”
“…I’m committed to growth.”
“…I’ve overcome before, and I will again.”
“…creativity is a muscle—I’m willing to train it.”
You’ll find more reasons than you expect when you stop waiting for external validation.
Repeated Motion
The shadow army grows weaker through consistent action.
Beliefs don’t change without behavior change. If you want to be a creator, create something and work on it every day.
Start small. Build momentum. That’s how transformation happens, not just in thought, but in reality.
Fight forward
Not all limiting beliefs are bad. Some are guardrails meant to protect you. But many are chains keeping you tethered to a life half-lived. You think you can’t do something because something’s wrong with you. You think you can’t change because it’s too late, or because the world won’t let you.
But that’s just the shadow army talking.
Fighting this army means reclaiming your inner world. The war isn’t won in a single battle, but each small victory counts. Each time you question a belief, act despite fear, or choose growth over comfort, you push the shadows back.
Fight. Fight forward.
Because on the other side of the shadow army is the version of you you’ve always dreamed of becoming.
If this essay resonated with you, consider supporting my writing journey! You can ‘buy me a coffee’ using the link below 👇🏾
What I’m into this week:
Spiral Character Development: Why Your Recurring Patterns Are Part of Your Heroic Journey by Recovering Overthinker (Substack)
Perfect characters don't inspire us because they offer no path we can follow.
None of us are perfect. And so remember: your story is worth sharing. The struggles and mistakes in your life could radically change someone else’s. So, share. Share. Share. Share. And then…share some more.
Much love,
- Jon ♾️
Thank you! Your comments are not just uplifting but can be put to practical use every day. I have a shadow army that follows me everywhere especially in my job. Very difficult to get them out of mind. I’m trying. Slowly. I have good days and not so good days. I plan to implement your ideas along with prayer.