hello, discomfort, my old friend
i've come to talk with you again
I'm continually catching myself hesitating over next steps because I am uncomfortable. An old, familiar voice in my head, who is deeply attached to the status quo, wants me to believe that any discomfort means I'm making a Bad Decision. But I find ways to move forward. We're surrounded by messages to expand our capacity for discomfort. Take bigger leaps. Do the reps. Build the resilience. Just Suck It Up and Do It. I find these kinds of perspectives valuable—yet, I still feel like there's something missing.
I spend a lot of time experiencing a broad buffet of discomforts: conversations with myself when mile 2 on a 20 mile long run feels straight up cruddy, when a supposedly "easy" set of squats turns into an all-out, excruciating grind, when I have to firmly enforce a boundary for a disregulated toddler, or asking the obvious but difficult question in a tense conversation. I don’t like this. It doesn't make sense. Why is this discomfort so confusing and weird?
A few months ago, I broke down in tears on a run. I had just spoken about my A1c levels with my doctor and was thinking about my long-term health. I was far too sleep-deprived to want to be running. But I was out there running anyways. I caught myself feeling miserable and started wondering where my stubborn persistence was coming from. My tears streamed out as I realized: I was running because I desperately wanted to make sure I live a long and healthy life to be there for my family. I thought of my daughter getting older and the energetic, badass Dad I want to be, standing (running?) by her side. I thought of the adventures around the world I want to experience with my partner-in-crime and love of my life. I thought of my own body and everything it has given to me, and how much I wanted to take care of it. My misery was my love.
Discomfort comes in flavors, sensations, rhythms, colors, textures, memories, words, stories, and emotions. Sometimes it means "You really love your family". Sometimes it means "hang on gimme a sec I'm still warming up!". Sometimes it means "Mason, you really gotta get some more sleep". And sometimes it means "Let's call it done, you put in some real hard work. Great job. You really took care of yourself today."
How often do you experience fatigue or discomfort and subconsciously turn that into the thought "I am weak. I am bad at this. I am not enough."? How often does discomfort seem to force you into decision between two equally unappealing options: endure or give up. How often do you completely ignore your discomfort to your own detriment? There is another way. What if you stayed in the nuances of the conversation instead of bouncing out of it?
Discomfort: "blargh! 👋🏼"
You: "argh, this again, we literally just started!"
Discomfort: "no no, wait hear me out. we just haven't done this before."
You: "....say more."
Discomfort: "...okay honestly i wasn't expecting to get this far into the conversation. but now that you mention it, it kind of reminds me of this other time you did something similar."
You: "and how did that go?"
Discomfort: "it was cool! not easy by any stretch. but cool. it got better as you kept at it."
You: "cool cool cool. let me know if we get into complete panic territory okay? thanks for watching out for me."
Discomfort: "you got it 🫶🏼"
Your discomfort can be your friend. Your adventure buddy on the path to your most fulfilled life. Your Samwise to your Frodo. There is a rich relationship awaiting when you open your curiosity and your heart to your own discomfort. It's more than just "start, stop, continue." In your discomfort, you will find insights about your passions, your fears, your strengths, your weaknesses, your capacity for love, and more. Your discomfort is you. Love your discomfort, and it can love you back.