The Importance of Sitting in Discomfort

I was listening to Africa Brooke on a podcast recently (this one) as she was discussing just how often we, as humans, sit in discomfort. Whether we like it or not, and whether we know it or not, we experience discomfort in all sorts throughout our day. If you’re reading this like, “I don’t think so, I feel good,” take inventory of how you feel throughout a single day, and tell me that you dodged feeling discomfort. Maybe we don’t encounter discomfort to an extreme on a daily basis but reflect on how often a coworker says something you may not align with, and instead of expressing, “I don’t see it that way, actually,” we sit and nod our heads. Why? Because it’s easier to allow ourselves to sit in a discussion of discomfort that doesn't affect others than sit in a moment of discomfort that requires us to express ourselves. Africa was describing how we experience the feeling of discomfort anyway, so why not participate in conscious discomfort?

What is conscious discomfort?

We make a conscious choice to feel the stickiness of discomfort and use it as a catalyst to promote lasting growth within ourselves.

What does it look like?

From getting sober to practicing the subtle art of slowing down, when we consciously allow ourselves to feel discomfort, we start to move through emotions that need to be felt. Maybe that’s learning how to be our authentic selves in a social setting without the crutch of alcohol, or maybe that’s reminding ourselves to pause and take inventory of how we’re doing. A discomfort that requires us to slow down and give ourselves time to just be rather than do.

How I’ll be practicing conscious discomfort:

I find it extremely difficult to slow down. More often than not, I keep my schedule full - minute to minute. This year, when I received my bipolar diagnosis, I devoted my attention to better understanding my mind, body, and heart. In that awareness, I came to find that I was reaching burnout all too often, and when I did find moments to rest, I would have thoughts like, “If you’re going to sit and do nothing, then you better journal” or “you better read.” So then, when I felt exhausted, I only had myself to blame. I’m learning to spend my energy, time, and resources mindfully today; from going to work to studying for school to writing on this blog, I know my peace is worth moments of discomfort. For me, that means taking a break to have a cup of tea, unplugging, and leaving my calendar empty so that I can leave room for how I’m feeling so I can act intuitively. Another important part of my life to which I am applying conscious discomfort to is my relationship with food, fitness, and my body. I heard Melissa Wood in a recent podcast talk about her body image, and she describes the action of stopping her negative self-talk while they’re happening so that, in that moment, she can redirect her thoughts. How incredibly impactful and powerful is it to expand your self-awareness enough to be able to stop your thoughts about your body and swap them for something kind instead? Easier said than done, nonetheless, incredibly inspiring.

Here’s your reminder that you hold the capacity to evolve through the stickiness of discomfort.

If you enjoyed this post, share ways you can practice conscious discomfort below, xx.