Comfort In Discomfort

I am way, way, way, way out of my comfort zone. My life is changing. So much so it is impossible to control and that is the specific point the universe is making, it seems. I am being shown myself, my controlling self—the part of me that actually thinks I can contain life. Until recently I haven’t known this side existed, although now it’s painfully obvious. It’s stunning how entrenched it is, how interwoven into the very fabric of my being.

Everything is lining up in such a way that I can feel and see what I must do: I must let go. I must genuinely trust life’s unfolding, not just give it lip service. I am being asked to do this on a deep and profound level—a bone shattering, evolutionary, level it feels. My Buddhist teacher used to tell me to get comfortable in the discomfort and that is what I’m going to do.

Lately I’ve had feelings that are reminiscent of my corporate life. I’ve felt pressed and rushed, stressed, without any time to consider or daydream and wander. I’ve had an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach like I was slipping down a steep slope and couldn’t stop. And then it struck me last night: I am feeling like this because I am attempting to manage and pre-think everything, as I’ve always unknowingly done. My life is changing—major changing—and I don’t get to manage it. My discomfort stems from even trying. That’s the lesson.

I am being turned upside down, but here’s the thing: I have a chance to learn hard lessons through JOY this time instead of sorrow.

There is suddenly a man, a very good man, where none was before. This blog, and the responsibilities to it, are ever present, asking me to create on a level I’ve not yet done: Five hundred words, five days a week, with photos! But it’s inspiring and challenging. Friendships are ripening; the painting season is nigh. Next year’s gallery is being formulated but is unknown. I’m splitting my time between Truchas and Taos and taking on, I hope, a whole new community of artful friends. While wonderful, it is all too much for me to hold onto and this is by design, I realize.

I’ve been carrying around a quote for so long I’m not certain of its source anymore but I want to share it now:

“Respect the elders. Teach the young. Cooperate with the pack. Play when you can. Hunt when you must. Rest in between. Share your affections. Voice your feelings. Leave your mark. Walk in peace, for they shall know us only by the tracks we leave.” Wolf Creed—Bob Ashby (I think)

I believe this is how I will leave my mark: I will step out of what I know and go a little wild. I will embrace this moment. I will learn to let go. I will rediscover joy. I will play and laugh. I will practice loving. I will face my own happiness and learn to let it be. I will stand out in the night, embraced by the heavens, and accept I cannot possibly control the magic of the universe. It is pure hubris to even try. Spirit will direct that flow. I am here to feel—to love and trust, laugh and cry—to know there is a wonderful plan for my life and I am on the right path. I will breathe. I will live. I will be. And I will believe, even when it’s uncomfortable and I can’t see.