Getting uncomfortable to make change happen

This moving away from comfort and security, this stepping out into what is unknown, uncharted, and shaky – that’s called liberation.”

― Pema Chödrön

I love Pema.
I read her words and listen to her voice when things are tough.
And right now, I need her words.

Because lately, I’ve been confronted with difficult emotions, as I know most of us have.

From the anxiety and stress of COVID, to the sadness of losing a dear friend, to the worry of being laid off, to the horror of a black man murdered by a white police officer, to the discomfort and shame as I navigate what racism really means.

It’s an incredibly challenging time.

I can’t ignore these feelings, and I’m one who likes to push down unwanted feelings.

But, in all honesty, this last one has been particularly hard.

Because I recognize I’m part of the problem.

There are many freedoms I enjoy, and have taken for granted.

And there are difficult every day realities for those of color that I don’t quite understand because I’m white.

And now that I’m really listening, it’s humbling for me to hear what’s being said without defensiveness, and really accept my responsibility.

It means I need to be willing to be uncomfortable.

And go to this place of shaky tenderness, as Pema calls it.

It’s where I’m willing to be vulnerable, and not be completely good at it, and not beat myself up for not being good at it, but do it anyways.

Shaky tenderness will require lots of self-compassion and love.

Because without it, I’ll get defensive, retreat into myself and nothing will change.

And I know that for this change, and any other change, this is the key.

This past week I had an incredible conversation with my coach, and realized that I’m avoiding discomfort in a certain area of my life.

Basically, I realized that instead of saying what I want to say, I’m holding it in, and avoiding possibly disappointing others.

But in saying the words out loud to my coach, I realized that in not wanting to experience discomfort, I’m actually disappointing myself.

Big time.

And it’s the same in any situation where we avoid being uncomfortable or vulnerable.

Like when we don’t say “I love you” when we want to, or we go through the McDonald’s drive-thru yet again when we didn’t want to, or we skip the run, walk, or bike ride.

We’re actually avoiding being uncomfortable.

And as a consequence, we end up suffering inside, resentment and regret eating away at us.

And we lose our authenticity.

And live a life that doesn’t satisfy our desires, and possibly our needs.

On the flip-side, I know that when I’ve done uncomfortable things, I’ve ultimately felt empowered.

Moments like leaving my job to start a business, choosing to go through a divorce amicably, and even teaching a yoga class for the first time.

These are moments that stand out because I took the reins, and assumed responsibility, no matter the outcome.

I decided I’d do them, even if that meant doing them all badly.

And I let go of other people’s expectations, my own insecurities, and just did got them done.

And that’s what made those moments powerful!

Now, here, on the precipice of another opportunity to do something powerful, like create an anti-racist society, I need to feel shaky and uncomfortable.

And from this place of discomfort, help create a new inclusive future where no one feels excluded or violated based on their color, or any other differentiating factor.

All while having compassion for myself.

Are you in?

Keep moving forward my friend,

Debbie

4 Replies to “Getting uncomfortable to make change happen”

  1. What an awesome inspiring story Debbie and yes I am in. I love what you stand for and your bravery in your own story is a powerful reminder that it’s never to late to start at the beginning. Somehow, some way your story will intersect with mine

    Thanks

    Lareina Donahue

  2. I am in. Thanks for being comfortable enough to share your discomfort. You are an inspiration to me, and I thank you for sharing your emotions with the group. It is helpful to me in these trying times.

    1. Thank you, Brenda. It helps to know that I’m not alone in feeling these things.

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