This is one more thing I've changed my mind on
Discomfort. I'm tired of it.
I didn’t meet her face to face, but I did meet her shoes which were parked at the door of my new boyfriend’s apartment (his roommate was in his bedroom with the door closed, as was the owner of the shoes). We never saw each in person until Monday morning in our college classroom where we described each others’ shoes, and the apartment, to conclude our guys were roommates. This was the beginning of a lifelong friendship (for us, not the guys) filled with shenanigans including THE SHOPPING CART INCIDENT.
The shopping cart incident (it’s never called anything else) happened after a night of debauchery when we stumbled on a cart with very wobbly wheels that just happened to be sitting by the sidewalk. It would be hilarious, we drunkenly thought, to hop in and go for a ride. It did not end well and injuries were involved but what I remember most was the gut-busting laughter, sense of freedom, and love of good friends.
We used to live together, her and I, in an old brick building in the inner city. I don’t know if it was that, or that we used to frequent a cool bar that had a brick wall with neon lights and the iconic James Dean picture hanging on the wall, but I’ve always loved brick walls. Maybe they pull on a thread that disconnects me from living with a sense of urgency and allows me to be more in the moment. Can a wall do that?
Recently I found myself in a café with a brick wall. I tumbled in the door looking for restoration and found it in the sun pouring through the floor to ceiling windows, the black and white checkered floor, the coffee, and the women that filled every table (it must have been the time of day and probably the upscale women’s consignment store nearby that drew a café full of women). It was if the Universe delivered me a shot of comfort just when I needed it.
The young ones were sitting alone plugging away on computers. Across from me two women were hanging out on the velvet couch drinking coffee and giving off the vibe that they’d got in some trouble together over the years. They were a little past middle age and had great style — I was keeping my eye on them. Beside me were two beautiful older women who grinned when I took their picture against the white brick wall.
It was impossible to sit in the presence of these women of all ages and not dwell on the passage of time because, in them, I could see myself at every age. Just five minutes ago I was falling out of a shopping cart in the middle of the night and now I’m wondering how I can make every day count without making it all seem so urgent.
For years I held to the saying “life begins at the end of your comfort zone,” subscribing to the notion that, to show up fully in my own life, I needed to stretch beyond what I thought I could easily do. I’d prove this to myself by taking action which was sometimes silly and other times meaningful. One time I didn’t shop for a full year, I started drinking water, I quit drinking alcohol, I started an online school…all in the name of growth and change.
But now most days seem extra spicy so stretching beyond what I think I can easily do doesn’t require anything extra. I seem to leave my comfort zone every day whether I want to our not. It’s a side effect of being alive, with any sense of awareness at this time in history, so I’m sure it feels the same for you. (I acknowledge that I come to you from a point of privilege so when I say life feels spicy I know it’s NOTHING compared to what so many are dealing with. I don’t live in a war zone, I’m not queer or an immigrant in America. I’m a white Canadian who has a job and free health care. Please know, all of you struggling with so much horribleness and hardship, that we are praying for you, we love you and we wish we could fix it).
I know Honeybun, it’s scary as hell.
As a personal growth writer, it can feel a little silly, even indulgent, to look inward when the world out there is on fire and begging for change. But if we don’t have a solid center, if we don’t know what truly matters to us, how can we show up for anything or anyone with any kind of integrity?
The truth is, we often avoid looking at the hard stuff — out there or in ourselves — because it makes our hearts scream, our guts churn, and it's damn uncomfortable. But maybe not turning away is the work. Maybe the real growth isn’t in chasing the next Big Thing, but in showing up with our eyes open and our heart steady for ourselves and the people around us.
Just as I’m no longer the person who rides shopping carts in the middle of the night, I no longer believe that our ability to tolerate the discomfort of doing something hard will lead us to a place of ease. Who knows what’s waiting on the other side of all this agitation?
Still, I’m working to trust that somehow, through ways we can’t yet imagine, the world will reshape itself into something more equitable, inclusive, respectful, and loving. I’m clinging (most days with white knuckles) to the fragile hope that after this firestorm shitshow, the horror will crack open and make space for something beautiful.
Fingers crossed, prayers uttered, personal growth achieved (jk, we are never done!).
Happy Pride Month Beloved One! Stay well because you are very important!
xoxo Donna
Oh Donna, this is such a beautiful and nourishing read. Here’s what I’m learning about myself: I’ve been really good at the doing, the pushing, the expanding, the “doing hard things“ and what I’ve struggled with is BEING - being in the ease, in the flow and the fluidity of just being. Sometimes when you can do hard things, you need to learn how to do the easy things. Especially when the easy things seem hard. XO.
Hello, Donna. Thank you very much for sharing. I really enjoyed it. I often tell my patients in psychotherapy that sometimes we are uncomfortable... in our comfort zone. You've probably found yourself thinking or saying things like “it's always been like this”, “I can't change, it's not even worth trying”, “I've tried to lose weight, but I can't”, “my life will always be like this”. If you think or verbalize your opinion of yourself in these terms, it probably means that you have retreated into your “comfort zone”.
For many people, the “comfort zone” is a place of security, coziness and comfort; a place, a person, a certain situation or way of being that allows us to relieve (at least temporarily) an anguish or mental pain that seems stronger and more resistant than us. “When I feel anxious, I go to get some air”; “I don't even want to think about this problem”; “I'd like to do that, but I'm afraid”; “this situation has been going on for so long that I've just let it go”. Who hasn't used expressions like these before? They're all signs of escaping into the comfort zone.
The biggest problem (even if we don't realize it) with the comfort zone, which generates momentary comfort, is that this comfort tends to turn into accommodation. And from this accommodation to an escape that distances us from who we are, the discomfort of the comfort zone insidiously grows. Although it creates an illusory sense of security, comfort and welcome, constantly escaping into our comfort zone is almost always toxic and paralyzing in the long run, generating emotional and behavioral impasses and full of clearly suffocating and notoriously uncomfortable dead ends.
What drives us to flee?
The driving force behind escaping the comfort zone is most often fear, a sense of dread or threat. When we don't have the capacity or courage to face it, we almost always run away to avoid it. We flee to the comfort zone. When we let fear drive our lives, we don't grow.
We are like a puzzle with no solution, because some pieces have been destroyed or lost. That's why it's necessary to leave the comfort zone in order to be happy. And sometimes that doesn't even mean taking risks, but rather questioning, opening our minds to new ways of living and hoping that in the end it will all have been worth it, not because it didn't hurt, but because we were who we really wanted to be.