When Life Gets Uncomfortable
I used to hate change. The whole process was all too visceral for my taste. That itching feeling that crawls from the pit of your stomach all the way up your spine. It leaves your throat dry and your heart pounding. The very moment when where you are simply won't do, the harsh reminder that all comfort is temporary.
I've encountered it in relationships, in my career. It's put me on to and subsequently taken me off of countless diets and life projects. It inspired my brief obsession with Feng Shui and, at one point, convinced me that I might have a real shot at becoming the next Martha Stewart (well, minus that one mishap of course). Don't worry, Martha, I've got a ways to go.
It's led me to jump to conclusions as many times as it's pointed me in the direction of unparalleled clarity.
But any way you spin it, change is uncomfortable.
I've been taking yoga classes regularly (about four times a week) for almost a year now. My body has grown stronger, my mind more reliable. I lovingly refer to my practice amongst family and friends as my spirit homework—a means of coping with life outside of my therapist's office.
In short, I keep returning because it works.
And yet, waking up every Monday morning knowing full well the work that lies ahead, still hasn't gotten easier. Reminiscent of the taunting cursor that stakes its claim on my blank Word document the second I've dared to write something new—ruthless and unpalatable.
But then, against all odds, my feet make their way to the floor, my fingers start typing. Life keeps moving forward. Somewhere in between reluctance and relief change shoves its way back into my life. I'm moving. I'm sweating. I'm raging.
I'm also growing.
All this to say, that change never gets easier. I don't know that it's supposed to. I feel like we wouldn't appreciate it enough if it did. However, fighting change rarely yields positive outcomes. Most of the time, excuses are just convenient decoys for the inevitable.
So here's to taking action: when it feels difficult, uncomfortable and, if you're anything like me in the morning, useless. Here's to moving forward, even if it's one reluctant inch at a time.
Because in this crazy roundabout kind of way, proving to ourselves that we have the capacity to begin something makes following through so much more feasible.