Discomfort Elicits Growth…So, It’s Kind of Great, Great

“There’s going to be like 2,000 people there, Mom….so scary.” I listened intently as Sophie explained the setting for the middle school choir concert, recounting the descriptions provided by her teacher earlier in the day. She was nervous. Her eyes screamed, “Rescue me!” And yet, I knew that this would be a defining moment-that she would find her voice-literally and figuratively. Sophie’s feelings are an illustration for all of us. Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.

Living, true and authentic living, begins with discomfort. Babies wail, mothers scream, fathers shed tears. Athletes persist through one more set. Learners ask one more question, pushing their minds toward connection and understanding. On this day, I am uncomfortable. I am at the end of my comfort zone and have been living on this cusp of newness, trust, faith, and reality for several months. What produces feelings of discomfort and distress?

• Sitting alone in the living room.
• Selecting a television show.
• Shepherding a child to obey a seemingly simple request.
• Sharing uncensored thoughts and opinions.
• Storytelling in a group.

In reality, this list is endless because I am uncomfortable most of the time. My past, my perceptions, my problems marinate my whole being in self-doubt, worry, concern. When I allow myself to become saturated in this gooey mess of spices and selfishness, I become salty. Salty? Yes. I become overbearing to the world around me, drowning out other savory flavors, limiting their appeal and worth. So, how might I live at the end of my comfort zone and continue to develop into the image planned for my life? Embrace discomfort. 

When I think about embracing discomfort, it means that I continue my dialogues with friends–no showmanship or screens and mirrors–just Janet. I share how they can pray for me. I reveal my fears and doubts and know that they have them too. Embracing discomfort requires letting go of the tendency of comparing my inside to everyone else’s outside. It means forgiving myself and allowing the discomfort of feeling comfortable become part of my story. Yes, the paradox of how I feel incredibly uncomfortable when I am at peace may not make sense. I have lived in this space of constant chaos and disarray for so long that discomfort is what feels normal for me. I once had a friend ask if I always had to have a crisis. Years later, I finally get it. Having a crisis or problem to fix or solve kept me safe and protected from revealing my self to the world. I kept her hidden behind the busyness of caring for others and considering ways of being unnoticed, but significant. Not an easy task! Thinking about the notion of masking myself is difficult to admit because it means that the worth of so many actions really didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because I did not connect. I did not put myself into a shared vulnerable space with another person. I did not take the risk of being known.

Living on the edge of comfort is where many of us stay. What might happen if we pushed ourselves to make the phone call to an estranged relative? In what ways would an invitation for coffee provide pathways for connection? How would assuming positive intentions impact your marriage and family? Let us move to the end of our comfort zones and find what lies beyond–it is savory and sweet and real. It is worth the risk and I am taking it.

Coffee

3, 2, 1…a new year often brings visions of new routines, new goals, new outcomes. For many, it’s a revamping of their entire life. On December 31st, they are one person. On January 1st, they begin changing into another. I do not set resolutions, nor do I subscribe to retaining January as the only time to set goals. Life is about living. A consistent calibration of our lived life with our values and commitments. Often, it centers on the routines we establish.

Since 2012, one of my routines is coffee every morning. Close friends and my jazzercise class could explain the history of “coffee drive-bys” in the early morning hours by my now husband and days when the entire stainless steel pot would travel with me to the office and schools I frequented as part of my job. There’s something comforting about a warm cup of coffee to start your day, and I’m finding that it’s so much more than that.

Recently, I committed to more dedicated time to reading, writing, and reflecting. I borrowed Shauna Niequist’s Present Over Perfect from a friend and have digested it in morsels of goodness…and conviction and harsh reality. You see, Shauna’s path is much like my own and many others. I’m finding that our culture sustains and nurtures an image of the working woman as busy, engaged, always at the ready. I am that woman-and, I am so much more. 

Busyness flanked my every move. I wanted to be known as productive and efficient, but not known. Shauna writes, “Addition to motion-or faking or busyness or obsessive….whatever….builds just a tiny, luscious buffer between you and…everything,” (p. 146). I know that feeling. It’s empty, but safe. It’s lifeless, but secure. It’s emotionless, but insulated. We are made for so much more. Our lives cloud our purpose, so what’s this have to do with a morning cup of joe?

I think morning coffee is a lot like our culture’s influence on woman and my affinity for motion. Frankly, I am addicted to it. Always being on the move, finding the next thing to occupy my time and prove my worth to those around me. No longer. Over the past several decades, coffee has grown from a diner complement to a piece of pie to a full-blown “three pumps of sugar-free vanilla, extra hot double-shot of espresso, hold the whip, remove the foam, soy-only” venture. What might happen if we pulled away from all the extra and lived boldly? Without clouding ourselves with “extra whip” and “syrups” and “triple shots,” who might we be known as to the world around us? Who would know us? The authentic self that is always there, often obscured by the rest. That’s what 2017…and 2018 and 2019 are about for me. Relocating and honoring my authentic self.

I am from…

I am from bare, gaping cabinets.
Dirty walls and dust-covered floors.
Rooms overflowing with paper of all kinds, dingy empty boxes, tattered clothing.
So much to be offered, yet nothingness.

I am from a large family,
Always a forgotten piece of a larger puzzle,
Third-child syndrome, not the oldest or youngest, just a “tweener.”
“No money for this. No time for that.”

I am from muddy cornfields and blood-covered hands,
Picking tassels and destroying weeds, who are just like me, hoping for survival, yet somehow out of place.
I am from dark, dew-filled mornings.
Buttermilk pancakes piled high with butter oozing into crevices, hot syrup cascading like Niagara Falls.
“39! ORDER UP!” forcing me to dash with half smiles to and from the kitchen, all the while remembering my bare cabinets.

I am from sweltering hot summertime.
Booming firecrackers, the garden that never happened, a dangerous tree house.
Trips to Ace Hardware to buy nails and a grass-colored John Deere tractor sprinkler in hopes of surprising my parents for their June 11^th anniversary.
I am from broken dreams of white wedding gowns and mountain peaks.
A place marked with hoping, wishing, wanting, but replaced with achieving, moving on.

I am from a new home.
Filled with bright faces, young and old, achievements—certifications and degrees, and friends and mentors who appreciate my gifts, they tell me so.
Recognition coupled with sincerity warms my heart.
Gushing in and mending the holes left behind by bare cabinets, broken dreams, and nonexistent gardens.

I am from a new home,
A place of happiness.
I matter. I fit.

5 Questions to Ask Yourself-TODAY

1. What challenging goal is on your mind?
2. If you had three hours of free time, what would you do?
3. What’s one new thing you’d like to try?
4. What would your friends say you do well?
5. What did you recently do that you’re proud of? When did it happen? What talents and strengths did you use?

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By the way, I asked my husband, Tom, question #1 last night and he reported that the most challenging goal for him at present is to “get my J-Bird in a good place.” How incredible to have people who take our emotional state and commit to improving it through their words, actions, dispositions.

These questions are here for two reasons. One-I think they are thought-provoking and just good things to consider in our hustle-and-bustle of life. Two-it’s my accountability system for helping Tom achieve his challenging goal. When we write, report, and reflect upon our passions and those activities that energize us, our mental state improves. In addition, this is an organic way of promoting positive self-talk. Arguably, a paramount challenge for women in the states is a positive self-image and strong relationships with other women. Perhaps these questions will serve as inroads to change and growth.

Who Am I, Really?

“You’re the most positive person I know.”

“I have one thing to say…will you come and teach at 5:30 AM at the other center?”

“I’ve never met anyone with more energy.”

“Janet, I can’t imagine you doing anything like a slow-cooker.”

These phrases cascade like waterfalls in my mind. Words of affirmation spoken by colleagues, friends, students, and family members with sincerity sprinkle my days. So, why do I feel empty, like I’m the reservoir at the top of the cliff and everything in me is falling over the edge, leaving me grasping for more? It lacks sense. 365 days a year, I live insignificance. I embody insecurity. I feel flighty. I am ashamed.

My name is Janet Cook and this is my story.