On Comfort...

I think we often forget that life is not supposed to be easy.  That was never the intention.  The purpose of our time here is to learn things. To experience wonder. To love others.  To find meaning.  To become more.  And the unfortunate reality is that most often the business of growth is not a particularly pleasant one.  As a result, our attachment to comfort becomes one of our most consistent sources of suffering. We do not want to learn.  We would prefer to be comfortable thank you kindly. 

But that is not how it works.  

To grow we must be willing move through unpleasant periods of difficulty.  Change is a funny thing that requires both action and acceptance.  While these can seem mutually exclusive or diametrically opposed, they are not.  To be any different or to go anywhere new, we must act. We have to take the step that comes after the choice to change. We must actually move forward.  But beyond that we must accept the inevitable difficulty that is to follow. Because as soon as you act -- which many people never do because it is quite scary -- your mind is liable to begin kicking up all manner of resistance.  

Why?

Because change is uncomfortable and as such requires a certain measure of acceptance.  Difficulty and discomfort are inevitable fixtures in a well-lived life.  We must to decide if we will allow them to stand in our way or if we are willing to move forward on faith trusting that good things lie ahead for us.  Difficult things perhaps, but good nonetheless because they will teach us whatever lesson it is that we most need to learn next.  It is unlikely to be the same lesson that we imagine we need, but then again that is how lessons work don't they? They arrive on their terms rather than on our own. This is actually a lucky thing lest we remain stuck all our lives.

Waiting to begin.  

Yet hope is never lost. Even inaction has much to teach us.  But if we sit in the trenches of any given lesson too long we must acknowledge that we are missing out on the incredible business of being alive. It is far better to trust that the potential for growth held in the messy difficult bits of a change or a lesson will be worth more to us than the possible trouble or pain they can cause. They are part of our path. We belong to them and in many ways they are as essential to us as breathing.  Their movement through our lives is like air.  They nourish and challenge us.  They teach us how to be more human. More companionate. More alive.

And that -- after all -- is the point.