Going Towards Discomfort IS the Answer

“The enemy of development is pain phobia: the unwillingness to do a tiny bit of suffering. As you feel unpleasant you interrupt the continuum of awareness and you become phobic and this weakens the heart of the will.” – Bruce Lee

It took moments to put my plan into action. It took a lifetime to accept that going towards my discomfort was the best solution.

Now, I’m a believer. In times of fear and resistance, I need to sit with discomfort in order to find my way forward.

Easier said than done.

Resisting Discomfort During a Pandemic

On Wednesday March 18th, 2020, a week after coronavirus was declared a pandemic, I was sitting in my short term rental in Portland, OR. It felt like the world was going crazy, especially given how fast the news of the pandemic was changing. My anxiety level was through the roof.

As more and more restrictions were being put into place, I contemplated my future. Housesits were being cancelled. Travel to other countries was discouraged. Clients pulled back funding.

What was next for me?

I discussing my feelings and thoughts with a friend. I told him how scared I was of not making any income this year. I explained how my plans for travel and housing were now null and void. I couldn’t see the way forward.

Then, he echoed the words another friend said a few days earlier, “Why don’t you just go back to your parents’ house in New York?” Hearing this phrase a second time, I listened more intently.

Realizing Discomfort

I REALLY did not want to go back. Going back to upstate New York meant failure. It meant living with my parents as an almost 40 year old adult. Going back signified that I had made the wrong choices in life.

It also exposed my perceived progress. It showed me that even though I thought I was on some grand adventure, I hadn’t really gone anywhere.

Even though going back was uncomfortable, I realized that running away from this discomfort would only cause me more pain. Running away would stress my financial, physical, mental, and emotional well-being beyond what I could handle.

I needed to go towards my discomfort, to move forward. So, within moments I scheduled a flight to take me back to the current epicenter of the pandemic.

My Very Uncomfortable Journey

The journey to NY was impactful.

As I struggled with my internal discomfort about going back, there was also a great amount of external stress.

For example, my flight from Denver to New York turned around mid-flight due to NYC closing its airspace. (NOTE: airspace quickly reopened and I was able to get back only 5 hours later than planned. Thank you, universe.)

Another example was the virus itself, lurking just out of sight. I was scared to touch anything, to talk to anyone, and to sit anywhere.

Lis with glasses and orange gloves
Me in the Denver airport waiting for my second flight to NYC. Note my stylish safety gloves.

As I sat on the planes and at the airport gates, I thought. I questioned my immense privilege. I questioned my morals and values. I questioned how the hell I had gotten here.

The Comfort Within the Discomfort

Yet, as I stepped out of my self imposed world of anxiety, I couldn’t help see how, despite the external factors beyond my control, I was incredibly well supported.

Every person I met along my journey into discomfort, from the cabbie in Portland, to the other travelers in the airport, to the airline personnel on the planes, were incredibly kind.

In addition, a dear friend of mine who lives two hours from Denver made herself available to pick me up if my second flight attempt to NYC failed. I even ran into my friend’s son, who I hadn’t seen in years, as he was traveling back to San Antonio from Denver.

All signs pointed towards “You are safe, Lis. You made the hard, but right, decision. This isn’t going to be easy, but the universe has your back.”

However, most of the journey I refused to accept these signs of comfort, which I now see as paving the way for me to safely sit in the discomfort of my return.

Instead I chose to focus on my fear of my future, and what this journey home “meant”. Worse, to quell this perceived fear, I used books, movies, and my own mind to numb and distract myself from the feelings of discomfort.

Why It’s So Hard For Me to Sit with Discomfort

This question isn’t difficult to answer, actually. It’s hard for me to sit with discomfort because it doesn’t FEEL good. I’ve chosen to go toward making myself feel comfortable most of my life because it just feels better.

I think one reason that sitting with discomfort doesn’t feel good, is because it involves having to accept that I am solely responsible for my life.

This means when I look at the circumstances that have brought me to where I am today I have to own that my choices were what got me “here”. And, as in the case of going back to NY, if I don’t like where I am, I can blame no one else but myself.

So you can see that as I sat with the discomfort of my responsibility, both in the house in Portland, and then on the journey back, and even still as I write to you, I had to own up to ME being the reason I am back in an uncomfortable situation. I have to OWN my differences, my individuality, and, as I’ve said before, this is really scary.

But it’s always the very best thing I can do to live my best life.

Why Going Towards Discomfort is the Best Thing

The short answer is if I go towards discomfort, I remove discomfort.

As I sat in Portland uncomfortably thinking about my trip, I saw that if I didn’t go back I would not only potentially run out of funds, but would also face some really uncertain times, and face them alone. I accepted I was not ready to chance both of these because I know I wasn’t strong enough to keep my mental and emotional well being intact. This acceptance was SO HARD.

I also saw just how unnecessary it was for me to go through even further hardships just so I didn’t have to face the discomfort of going home. Who would choose unnecessary pain in order to avoid alternate pain? At some point pain will come, Am I right?

Thus by going towards the discomfort instead of resisting it, I face the pain directly in front of me instead of piling on more pain. This allows me to banish the perceived fear in my mind. Doing so allows me to think clearly and make rational decisions that may not feel the best, but that ARE the best.

The People I Admire Sit with Discomfort

I think it’s important to note that the people I admire most adhere to this principle. Their lives may oftentimes look comfortable, but this is because they choose the path of frequent discomfort.

“Top performers feel discomfort just like everyone else, but they respond differently. They think strong. They recognize the power of the brain to overcome discomfort, and they do bold things despite how they feel.”

As the Bruce Lee quote at the top of this article points out, suffering through the discomfort is the path of the strong of will. Further, the suffering isn’t just physical, it is also being mentally and emotionally shaken to the core.

I’d wager suffering continues in those that I admire to this very day, as their root of all that is possible.

Is Going Towards Discomfort Best For All?

I’ve thought a lot about how I was able to make my decisions from a place of immense privilege and safety. Many people are not as privileged. So, I asked myself, do my words hold true across the board? Or are they true only for those that have a fall back, a support system, or some other foundation holding them up?

My answer so far is that embracing the uncomfortable option; the one that doesn’t feel good BUT that stops most of the pain and suffering we are causing ourselves in our minds, will bring some sort of relief and stability on some level.

It will be hard at first, and it will hurt along the way, but it will be the best way forward until the next opportunity comes along.

It’s about looking to myself first. Not running away when something feels uncomfortable. And “doing bold things” despite how I feel.

A Life of Growth is a Life of Discomfort

If I want to architect my best life, life from here on out is going to have to look and feel REALLY uncomfortable. But, I feel I’m finally ready to face that discomfort head on.

What other choice do I have?


My Journey is My Destination

The reality of self work and progress is that it’s not linear, nor final. This is what I mean by the term: The journey IS the destination. This voyage architecting my best life never ends because there are always more updates that can be made. Instead of striving for some final destination, my best life is lived moment by moment.

When I take this premise a step further, I’m reminded that if I find that my journey has ended, and that I’ve gotten comfortable with my life and the people around me such that I’ve stopped questioning, that’s when I should have cause for concern.

To exemplify these thoughts, I’ll share with you a recent memory of a memory that made my knees buckle and brought me to tears.

The Memory of A Memory

It was December in Las Cruces, New Mexico. I was warming up lunch in the kitchen when the sensation that I was in a different time and place came over me.

Front Patio of a New Mexico house along my journey
The front patio of the house where the memory of the memory went down.

I stopped what I was doing, turned off the stove, then stood still for a second and shut my eyes. The moment that returned was one of the most simple, but impactful, of my life.

It was just about 12 years ago in early Spring. At that time, I was in the process of leaving San Antonio, Texas to move to Manhattan. Living in New York City had always been a dream of mine, and I was finally ready to make said dream a reality.

Before I could do so, I had to say goodbye to the life I built in Texas. Though I only lived there for three years, those years were some of the most important of my life.

During that time I started my career, made amazing relationships, and proved to myself that I could build a life away from the home I’d always known. But, despite all of these factors, I was certain I had yet to reach my potential. I also knew I wouldn’t be able to do so in SA Town (much as I loved it).

The memory is one that always makes me sad. In it, a work friend and I were walking to our cars after my last goodbye party (I had many, hehe). He stopped, looked me dead in the eye, and said, “Always remember. A good day in New York is a great day, but a bad day in New York is the worst. And… You can make it through anything.”

I recalled how, as he was saying these words, I could barely lift my eyes to meet his gaze. When our eyes did meet, I remember looking away from him as quickly as I could, fighting back tears. Then, we said our “goodnights” and “see ya tomorrows”, and I got into my car.

The Song of My Journey

When I turned on my car radio, the song came on; one of my favorites of all time. The refrain cut through me, its vice-like grip holding me in that San Antonio parking lot.

And I know I could look at anyone but you now
I could fall under the eyes of anyone
But you now, now, now, now
This is a list of what I should have been
But I’m not
This is a list of the things that I should have seen
But I’m not seeing
I’m just turning away from where I should have been
Because I am not anything…

The amount of shame and fear I felt when those words belted through my speakers overwhelmed me then. I remember my mind starting to unravel with thoughts like: What was I thinking leaving such a comfortable and wonderful life behind? What if I didn’t succeed? What if I was being ungrateful for throwing it all away!?

In present day, I had forgotten about lunch. Instead, I went to the living room, found my computer, opened YouTube and typed the song into the search engine.

I again started playing it, letting it, and all the memories and feelings that came along with it, surge through me. Re-living the angst, I fell to the couch crying uncontrollably.

I’m Still Not at The Destination

After a few moments I asked myself why the tears? Why was this memory still impacting me so?

My response was disheartening. It was because I still didn’t believe I’d reached my potential; my destination. I saw that I was still, after 12 long years, not “there”. I reasoned that if this was the case, maybe my leaving really WAS the biggest mistake of my life. Maybe I was a failure.

The Journey Is the Destination

It took a few moments of gasping for air and of reflection and self questioning, to see that no, leaving wasn’t a mistake. If I had stayed, I would not have stepped fully into myself as I am now aiming to do. I would have remained comfortable, yes, but stagnant.

That’s when I remembered: The Journey is the Destination. There simply is no “there” to get to; no finality to the journey. Instead each moment IS what I have been working towards, and each moment is what I need to make the most of.

I’ve written about this topic a time or two, and bringing all these facts to light again reminded me that I’m not a failure for not having yet reached my perceived destination.

Rather, the realization was seeing that if I settle into a comfortable state of being, a “there”, that’s when I should be worried.

Wait… What Did I Just Say?

Am I saying that settling into a comfortable life (whether that be made up of a partner, family, community, place, etc) is negative? Do I think building that kind of comfort into life means I failed?

Not. At. All!

It isn’t the building of comfort into my life that I think is problematic, but merely the letting go and forgetting to continually question and tweak my life that can be the issue.

This is something I didn’t really learn until I took all the distractions out of my life. Before I took the time to question who I am and what my beliefs are, then align my actions with those pillars, I took the easy road. This meant walking the path of those before me and assuming it would lead me to happiness (Spoiler alert: It didn’t).

I now see that questioning and even a healthy dose of self doubt which leads to questioning is one of the structures that enables me to architect my best life. Along with that questioning is continuing to tweak my actions to align with what’s truly best for me.

This process is the definition of architecting my best life.

Keep Questioning, Keep Tweaking

If I stop continually questioning and aligning aspects of my life, and instead choose to succumb to the fear which keeps me from digging deeper, I will never pull back the curtain to show me what needs fixing, nor will I ever conjure up the courage to make updates to improve my well being.

Those matters that need fixing may be the people I choose to spend time with, the activities I choose to partake in, or the thoughts I choose to believe, but whatever the curtain may be hiding, if I don’t pull it back and see the issues for what the are, the underlying issues that keep me from my full potential will remain.

Not only will they remain, but they will fester and expose themselves at the most random times. I feel not in control of my own life, and allow myself to become a victim of my own demise.

The hardest part is pulling back the curtain, because once I do, the issues can no longer be ignored. In fact, my inability to ignore the discontent with my life is exactly why I left SA Town all those years ago.

The Best Part

The most beautiful part about looking at whatever is behind that curtain is that, once I do, and once I investigate my feelings and resistance, I free myself up to see new ways forward, and I invite new and more fulfilling energies into my life.

The desert landscape of this Las Cruces destination.
Seeing what else is on the horizon…

In fact, after I unearthed my reasons for tears that day in Las Cruces, it was as if a 500 pound weight I’d been carrying with me for 12 years was released. I think about that moment in the parking lot now not with sadness or regret, but with confidence and knowing.

I know who I was and wasn’t then, and I know why I stepped on to the next part of my journey.

With this confidence in mind, I also am reminded to keep on walking, because if I stop, I stop truly living.

And… I kinda like living; moment by moment.


A Moment with My Discomfort

I recently found myself in an ethical quagmire. Here’s the scene. Myself and my colleague were crafting an email response regarding the services we provide. We had a solid draft, but we needed a closing statement. We were deciding between something more passive (i.e. We’re happy to talk further) and something more active (i.e. Let’s set up time to talk).

My gut said to go with passive even though I knew the best choice for successful business development/sales was the active one. The problem was I didn’t feel comfortable at all with the active choice. It made me feel dirty and pushy.

Eventually we made a mutual decision, but I continued to reflect on the moment for awhile thereafter. I questioned if I favored the passive choice because of some psychological/emotional lack of self confidence, or if more preference could be attributed to a more moral reason.

At this point in my reflection, my mind jumped to a quote a dear friend recently shared with me. He felt, and I agreed, it was an accurate assessment of my journey thus far.

Quote
Quote by Austin Kleon sent by my friend.

Did I favor the passive choice because its tone was one I wanted to see more of in the world? Was my preference a declaration that I would no longer sell or be sold to? Was I playing the part of the revolutionary bucking the system?

Yes, I was playing the part. But you see, that’s just it. I was playing a part.

My defiance was as genuine as my proposed enemy. Seeing this, I dug deeper. I sat with the discomfort the idea of my choice being flawed presented me, instead of riding off into the sunset of false belief.

After our short dialogue, I watched discomfort withdraw. In its place stood the truth. I knew it was the truth because I was afraid to face it. Further, after looking it in the eye for a few moments my fear resided, and confidence arose to take its place.

I saw, and not for the first time, my inclination towards passivity was a nod towards a desire to be passive in my own life. If I’m passive, I give the responsibility of my life to outside forces. This is a survival mechanism that ensures I won’t have to take responsibility for my failings. Unfortunately, it also guarantees I also won’t be able to take responsibility for and internalize my successes.

This passive practice only propagates the stagnate and unfulfilled life I set off on my journey to vanquish.

I refuse to tell you that after today I’ll only be leaning towards and selecting the active road. I’d love to believe this to be true, but I know better by now.

What I will tell you is I’m mighty proud I took a moment to sit with my discomfort and see the source of it for what it was. After-all, awareness is the first step towards recovery, and every journey starts with the first step.