This is…Uncomfortable

When Kris arrived in Botswana, we were so eager to hear about it. His first text: “You won’t be cold here.”

After nearly 30 hours of travel, most of us would want nothing more than a warm shower and bed. Instead, Kris was invited to a party and jumped into a game night hosted by a colleague.

When he finally did arrive at our new designated home late on his first night in an unfamiliar country it went something like this: Find bathroom. Turn on shower. Shower head falls off. Water sprays all over the bathroom. Electricity goes out. Dripping water. Darkness.

He described trying to sleep as the electricity buzzed on and off again 20 times that night. 

These are just the situations that make us better in the long run, right? Inevitably there will be discomfort in something entirely unfamiliar and different. 

I’m finding resistance to leave the comfort zone can be a sly saboteur. Even knowing full well that long-term joy, growth, and satisfaction often lie on the path less cushy.

In "The Comfort Crisis," Michael Easter confronts our relative era of ease, blaming it for health crises and other problems. Uncomfortable situations, he suggests, are the keys to unlocking vitality and understanding our humanity. It's discomfort as a portal to self-discovery.

Michigan winters, with their frosty grip, epitomize this struggle. The bone-chilling cold demands tenfold motivation to face the outdoors. Resilience, toughness—attributes forged in the icy darkness. Or maybe it's just nature suggesting a temporary hibernation, a "do not disturb until spring" memo.

Despite my familiarity with harsh winters, the past decade of comfort has made me fear my readiness for embracing challenges has waned. What once jarred me when we returned to the U.S. from Georgia —choices galore, orderly driving, ubiquitous sidewalks—now feels like an ingrained norm. I catch myself clinging rather than letting go.

“Comfort and stability can almost always eventually be found in unexplored territories.”

This resistance, as noted by Brad Stuhlberg in the Master of Change, is potent:

Resistance to discomfort is like “moving and comparing your new geography to your old and expecting it’ll immediately feel like home, instead of realizing that home is something to develop.” It is not something to be resisted, he advocates, but rather something to dance with, to participate in. Comfort and stability can almost always eventually be found in unexplored territories.

I feel it’s necessary to distinguish discomfort from true hardship. It is certainly a privilege to enter into a state of discomfort for the sake of growth and progress. Discomfort is not a truly unsafe situation, a chronic lack of food, medical care or clean water. It’s distinct from genuine suffering.

So to make discomfort more of an ally in this adventure, I’m considering these strategies:

Lowering Expectations
As the saying goes, the first rule of happiness is to lower your expectations. Release the grip of preconceived notions, comparisons, and imagined outcomes. I like to imagine a river. I’ve already decided to jump in, I might as well just let the current take me and see what happens.

Recognizing Impermanence
Embrace the impermanence of discomfort. I imagine Kris standing there in the blackness as water shoots all over the bathroom saying, “Ok…so this is how it is.” I’ve found Jon Kabot-Zinn's mantra, "Now it's like this," illuminates the transient nature of all states. Ride the wave; discomfort is a passing guest.

Back to Baby Days
Cultivate a beginner's mind. This is tough. We’ve spent all these years learning how to do things, maybe even get good at them, and then we have to start over? (Can you hear the whine?). Sure, being a baby again has its whiny moments, but we’ve all started from zero before. Learning new things is tense, but it's also a ticket to growth. 

Back to Baby Days

We need to cultivate a beginner's mind. Sure, being a baby and learning things all over again has its whiny moments, but we’ve all started from zero before.

Ben in his early learning days

Discomfort, an unlikely ally, can be the gateway to a richer, fuller existence. So while I certainly won't be heading to a party upon landing, I hope to be stepping into the discomfort, ready to embrace the dance of growth. Cheers to a bit of uncomfortable but transformative adventures wherever they may be!