Getting Comfortable with being Uncomfortable

      

     This is definitely a write what I need to remember post for me. Uncomfortable? Oh yeah. I’ve been dancing with varying levels of discomfort for over a year now. The past couple weeks the discomfort has gotten louder.

     We humans tend to react to discomfort the same way we do disease, as something to be fought, conquered and vanquished. Deciding to do battle with my discomfort is an option, but not one that really serves me in the long run. Slogging through the lengthy nebulous hallway where I’m not where I was and the new isn’t quite tangible yet is a vital part of change.

     If I expend a bunch of energy trying to make myself comfortable or less uncomfortable, I strand myself in the hallway. Along with resistance, feeling uncomfortable means I’ve stepped beyond my comfort zone. When I make that step and stay there for more than a few hours, I begin to outgrow my comfort zone.

    My ego and brain are masters at attempting to convince me everything will feel better if I retreat back into my comfort zone. I’ve tried that option a few times. It doesn’t work. Once I’ve been outside my comfort zone for a while I’m different. I don’t fit in my old comfort zone the same way. If I step back into my comfort zone I discover it’s not that comfortable anymore.

    The awareness that pushed me to venture outside my comfort zone in the first place is still with me. Fitting myself back into the same comfort space means I have to pretend the awareness never happened. I’ve repeated that piece of insanity enough times to know it doesn’t work.

    Getting comfortable with being uncomfortable becomes a matter of practicality. Like so many other things, it starts with my accepting where I am. I’m uncomfortable…so be it.  I don’t know how long this sojourn in the process hallway is going to last. That’s one of the billions of things I have no control over. If I move with the discomfort rather than fighting and/or resisting, I make it easier on myself. If I get in my own way, I could be here for a long time.

    What does getting comfortable with being uncomfortable and moving with my discomfort look like? My discomfort has a lot to tell me if I’m willing to actively listen. When I find myself focusing on the discomfort itself I redirect my attention to what’s underneath it.

     What is this discomfort? Discomfort is complex feeling. When I stay present with it for long enough to unpack it, I often find a mix of anticipatory anxiety or excitement and fear. Some of the discomfort I feel comes from living in the tension between excitement and fear without picking one over the other.

    Part of me is both excited and anxious about what this intangible new could look and feel like. Another part of me is yelling “Danger, danger! Run away!” That ego/personality aspect of me is going to keep squawking the whole time I’m in the hallway because the hallway is big pile of unknown. Fear of the unknown is one of those big universal human fears. But what else is in the fear tangle?

    Finding that out means listening to what my ego is yelping about.  In order to hear that voice I have to shift my inner dialogue from background soundtrack to the forefront of my attention.

     There are often a couple threads of self-doubt. Can I really do this or not? Running alongside the self-doubt I usually find an equally strong fear of what might happen if I can pull this off. Inevitably there’s some fear of loss. Change involves a death of some kind. Stepping into the new means letting go of something old. All those fears are pretty basic human stuff that’s not personal to my experience.

    Mixed in with all those fears is an endless string of “what ifs.” That too is basic human stuff, but the content of the “what ifs” can give me some important information. If I find a common theme, that’s a place to dig deeper. That’s where I begin to unearth the personal pieces of my discomfort.

    When I’m feeling uncomfortable, the level of discomfort varies day to day and moment to moment. Although the discomfort comes from inside me, external situations can intensify what I’m feeling. Those situations can also be a valuable source of information about my discomfort if I pay attention to what they mirror back to me.
    Discomfort has something to tell me. It won’t leave until I listen. There’s a difference between listening to my discomfort and feeding it.

    No matter how mindful I am, I can’t listen 24/7. When I find myself feeling worn out, overwhelmed or catch my ego/brain trying to impose its own storyline on my experience, it’s time to take break. Sometimes I need a little break every day. Accepting my need to step back and focus on something else or on nothing in particular allows me to conscious about what I do in those breaks.

     Does it serve the larger process or I am just doing something to numb myself for a little while? Neither option is inherently better than the other. If I opt for checking out over and over, I’m getting in my own way. Sometimes I’m not clear about what will support the larger process and a little stupor is what I need.

    Breaks can look like watching three movies in a row, taking a hike, spending the day at the hot springs, drawing or writing. Today I’m playing hokey and going to the hot springs.