ClearLife :: TGIF :: Befriending Discomfort
Weekly Drop || #3
“The essence of bravery is being without self-deception.”
― Pema Chödrön, The Places That Scare You: A Guide to Fearlessness in Difficult Times
Taking the Edge Off
Many of us engage in at least one escapist behavior, often to make the uncomfortable more tolerable. Some of these are obvious: a drink or more to “get through” an awkward or intimidating social gathering, edibles or a puff of a joint to “chill out” at the end the long day, workaholism as a socially sanctioned way of staying too busy to feel, or even looking at our phones while alone in public places to dodge engagement with strangers.
Other dimmers are more subtle, sometimes sinister: going back to a toxic relationship again and again because it is “comfortable,” perfectionist behaviors to appease others or experience some sense of control, toxic generosity as a short term self-esteem boost, excessive snark to avoid any real vulnerability or human connection, even a second piece of cake as a form of “self love” when we’ve had a tough week. These all serve to soften or lessen our feelings, edges.
But We Need Our Edges; Discomfort Can Propel Us To Change
When we peel away our dimmer or our escapist behavior of choice, we eventually feel what we’ve been trying to avoid. And it is those feelings that can help us make changes and move us towards a life that is more aligned with our true selves, our true values. Change jobs. End the relationship. Move. Face our financial situation. See a doctor.
So if we know we want to shift, grow, change, or evolve, we are going to need to get a handle on our dimming habits, whatever they are, and listen to ourselves.
For some, overcoming our dimming habits end up being a matter of survival because (1) the damage they cause will start start to cause grave harm (most evident with drugs and alcohol) or (2) an internal cry for change will be so intense, we’ll be leveled by a physical condition that forces us to reassess.
I’ve experienced the latter several times over the years, each a fairly serious medical concern that forced me to stop, pause, reflect, and ultimately change life course, armed with a potent insight.
That Sounds Hard. How Do I Start?
Developing an awareness of our discomfort itself and then what makes us uncomfortable is the first step. This can be fairly easy and does not require any actual commitment to change anything. It’s paying attention.
You can start today. Get curious. Notice, when does discomfort arise? Is it certain places, people, decisions? How does it make you feel when it does? What is the habitual response? Jack Kornfield has published a beautiful capture of how to bring mindfulness to feelings if you want to dive in here.
If you don’t notice the discomfort itself, try noticing escapist habits which can arise in response to discomfort. What do we habitually do that isn’t serving us? Are there patterns? We can then zero in on that, disrupt a routine. Eventually it will be clear what our aversions are trying to tell us.
“The attempt to escape from pain, is what creates more pain.”
― Gabor Maté
In my ClearLife journey, I noticed that my escapist behaviors weren’t serving me before I knew what I was trying to dim. I took baby steps to dial those back first, drinking only on weekends, less impulsive spending, longer doses of quiet time alone. Over time I was able to notice what arose when I didn’t have access to a trusted dimmer. Something isn’t right here. It took several starts and stops, but eventually the path forward, ultimately a path of healing and what now feels like freedom, was clear.
What Happens When We Tune In?
If we’ve been avoiding discomfort for a long time, we can expect some turbulence when we stop distracting ourselves and feel.
In my case, I’d been drinking “socially” (every day, surrounding myself with people who also drank daily) for years. I can see now that this was socially sanctioned self-medication. I was unhappy in my career, suffering in my broken marriage, and uncomfortable in my unhealthy, pain-plagued body.
When I stopping drinking, my version of getting “clear,” I could no longer avoid the internal whispers (later screams) for change. It was terribly disorienting as people, places, and activities that felt like “home” for ages were no longer a fit. After inevitable bouts of self-doubt, I eventually had the courage to start making significant changes. A move. A divorce. A job transition. A re-craft of my social life. A diligent health routine …that I actually maintained. Seeking out support to resolve shame for waiting so long. It was a lot.
Inviting Our Friend Discomfort In
I used to think of discomfort as a nuisance, a villain to hush and avoid. A visitor I didn’t want to encounter, not to mention spend time with. The cocktail waiting for me on the counter when I got home from a long day helped me keep this loathsome monster away.
I still don’t like internal whispers with messages that are inconvenient to hear …Think less about what you’ll wear on stage, more about what you want to say (even better, how you’ll feel, how you will help others feel) … or … He is right, I could be more curious than critical when bringing up that tough topic … and so on. Argh.
And I still have dimmers, just not booze or drugs. These days it’s being busy enough to dodge contemplation or buying things my kids need for that quick hit of feeling good for helping loved ones. Sometimes even people-pleasing, another socially blessed language so many of us women seem morbidly fluent in. When I see myself slip into these patterns I recognize that I’m likely avoiding feeling something, something I should probably be paying attention to.
Now when I hear discomfort knocking at the door, instead of turning the volume on the stereo up, tuning it out, I try to invite him in (for some reason he’s a he). I envision offering him a comfortable seat. I prepare tea. We sit together. I listen to what he is trying to tell me. What I hear in these moments is typically intuitive guidance. Gold.
Fun?
Yes, befriending discomfort can be fun.
Once we start noticing discomfort and our reflexiveness to it, we can deepen our awareness of this benevolent visitor with small shifts to just be with it in small does. Resist the temptation to look at our phone while in a silent elevator with strangers. Go to a social gathering and opt out of the wine. Take a walk after dinner instead of turning on the TV. What arises? What comes up when we invite discomfort in and listen to what s/he has to say?
Leaning into the discomfort can also be an adventure. Why not invite the intimidating guest to dinner, wear the bold shoes today, take that online class on something you’ve been curious about for years … start that newsletter?
A Seat at the Table
Living an intentional, aligned, and authentic life means being willing to attune to ourselves, and in order to do that, we need to be willing to listen.
Wishing you curiosity, ease, and patience as you deepen your relationship with your own discomfort. May we all realize that most of the time, s/he’s on our team.
Onward ❤️
Miscellaneous…
Reading: Gabor Maté’s The Myth of Normal, feeling like I need to underline at least one sentence per page it is so darn resonant.
Preparing: to interview Lama Tsultrim Allione at Wisdom 2.0 next weekend. We’re going to cover the divine feminine, the often isolating nature of separation, and why lipstick matters.
Drinking: more coffee than usual and wondering if the “health benefits” are similar to the now debunked “health benefits” of red wine. #firstworldproblems
As noted in the first TGIF, ClearLife is an exploration of what it means to “live clear,” without dimmers that can interfere with an intentional, present, and embodied life.
I write about the journey of making habit and lifestyle choices that support presence, healthier relationships (and bodies), and an overall more aligned and intentional life.
Thank you for trusting me with your time. 🙏🏼