Your Role as an Architect in Your Personal Growth
You’re building your personal growth building, and you’re the architect. This “architect” is your guide, turning your dreams into a clear vision of what you want to achieve. You acting as your personal growth architect will create a “blueprint” for your development, showing you the structure and key parts of your metaphorical building. Making sure your goals are solid and well defined, explaining how your dreams and goals create a strong foundation for your motivation and expectations, which then helps you move forward.
But this role of an architect isn’t just about getting things done; it also focuses on how you experience your journey. It ensures everything lines up with who you want to be, both personally and publicly, making your whole growth process real and rewarding. As you start putting your plans into action, this architect offers a blueprint to follow, providing guidance, keeping you on track, helping you adjust, and making sure everything fits with your overall strategy.
Ultimately, your growth blueprint helps you be clear on your vision, create a smart plan, connect different parts of your development, and finally build the life you imagine. Your growth architect could be your inner self, or a mentor, a coach, or even a structured way of thinking about yourself and your future. Regardless of who assumes the role of your personal growth architect, the blueprint design process begins with self-awareness.
The Role of Self-awareness
The most significant component in designing your blueprint for personal growth is self-awareness. It is the prerequisite—our knowledge of who we are and what we desire—on which our blueprint is based.
Self-awareness can be a complex idea, but consider it this way: I know I want to grow a vegetable garden (self-awareness), versus with my role as an architect on this project, which involves the actual design (blueprint), selecting the plants, and determining their care.
Self-awareness allows me to understand what I want to do and why I want to do it, my dreams, aspirations, goals, motivations, and expectations. In this particular example, it involves asking: Why do I want a garden? Why is it important to me? What do I expect it to look like? How soon do I want it ready? Once this groundwork is complete, only then can I take on the role of the architect and prepare a blueprint.
Personal Commentary
My Dad was a civil engineer. Where an architect works with people wanting to design their new home or businesses wanting to design new office space, my Dad would meet with developers planning new subdivisions, turning their ideas into detailed blueprints for streets, utilities, and home lots. Then, with a survey crew, he’d mark out key locations precisely, giving construction crews exact points to build from. His careful supervision continued until the project was complete.
I still remember spending Saturday and Sunday afternoons helping my Dad in the field, measuring distances between property lines, new home foundations, utility lines, and easements. I really liked the work, so much so that during college summers, I’d join a survey crew for the Kentucky State Department of Highways, where my Dad was the District Engineer. It allowed me to use the math and physics concepts that I enjoyed from college. Why I didn’t follow in my Dad’s footsteps and become a civil engineer, I don’t know. I guess, like all of us, I needed to find my own path in life.
I wish I had learned to create a clear blueprint for my life’s dreams and aspirations—something with defined goals and objectives, ways to track my progress, and built-in accountability. Back in college, some of my friends were way ahead of me on this. One good friend, who’s a doctor now, followed in his Dad’s footsteps. He showed up at Centre with a complete and detailed academic plan, knowing exactly which classes he needed for medical school and how hard he’d have to work to achieve the grades he wanted. He even found friends who shared his views to team up with, keeping each other accountable and supporting one another through tough times.
Looking back, I spent my years throughout high school and my freshman year at Centre unsure of my direction. It wasn’t until my sophomore year, when I met Dr. Walkup, that I found a true mentor. He guided me, set clear expectations for success, and, crucially, held me accountable. Forty-five years later, in my late 60’s, I’d like to believe I know what I’m doing, but sometimes I still have my doubts. Even now, I find myself still searching for a blueprint on how to be the best father, grandfather, husband, and person I can be.
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