Part One in a Six-Part Series.
This piece was originally published on Medium and revised for this blog on February 26, 2025.
Setting the Stage
Every interaction we have with the world is an opportunity to be better. We can choose how we react in times of stress and uncertainty. Do we react, get defensive, retaliate, or do we surrender, opening ourselves up to the potential for change?
These six principles help me navigate life's complexities, from personal growth to creative expression.
While each piece stands alone, they build on each other in ways you might find interesting to read them in order.
Sit in Your Discomfort: Running from Discomfort Is Like Fleeing a Bear
Embrace Boredom: From Agitation to Appreciation
Be Curious: Beyond the Search Bar
Find Connection Beyond Conflict: Why Hard Conversations Are Worth Having
Surrender to Uncertainty: Why Control Is an Illusion
Value Creativity over Consumption: The Joy of Making Over Taking
Join me in exploring these six guiding principles that continue to shape my journey. I’ll introduce you to each one, pulling back the curtain on how I actualize them, and together, we'll see what insights we learn along the way.
#1 Sit in Discomfort
The Art of Staying Still
I cannot sit still. I don't like it. Never have.
As a kid, I would fidget and squirm in my seat. I'd bite my nails, tug on my ear, and twirl my hair — careful not to make it fro.
In-class writing assignments were my nemesis. Even now, decades later, I catch myself fighting this same battle with stillness.
As I write this piece, I've already left my desk three times, searching for distractions.
Those dishes in the sink? They suddenly seem urgent. But do they really need my attention right now? Of course not.
They're just an escape route, a way to avoid sitting with my discomfort. BRB.
Hyperawareness: Both Gift and Curse
I'm a master of productive procrastination, expertly hopping from task to task like a frog in a lily pond. But the distractions aren't just external.
Sometimes the loudest disruptions come from within—specifically, from my own body.
To say I'm aware of my physical self would be an understatement.
I live in a state of perpetual body scanning—like a human MRI machine, constantly searching for potential threats. This hyperawareness isn't entirely self-taught. My background as a theatre major taught me to view the body as an instrument, requiring precise control and attention.
Later, studying acupuncture and integrative medicine in grad school added layers of Eastern and Western medical knowledge to my already heightened bodily awareness.
This combination of theatrical training and medical knowledge has been both a blessing and a curse. While it's given me deep insights into human physiology, it's also amplified my tendency toward hypochondria—much to the frustration of every healthcare provider I've seen since.
The slightest unusual sensation can hijack my attention, launching me into a spiral of catastrophic thinking. It's exhausting, but it's also deeply human. After all, we're wired to move away from pain, to protect ourselves from potential threats.
But what if this instinct to avoid discomfort is actually holding us back?
The Pursuit of Perpetual Happiness: A Modern Myth
Our bodies evolved to alert us to potential harm through pain and discomfort. It's a brilliant survival mechanism. But in our modern world, we're not just running from physical threats—we're fleeing from emotional discomfort.
Society tells us we should be happy, that feeling good is the endgame. We're bombarded with messages about "living our best life" and "choosing happiness."
But what are we sacrificing in this relentless pursuit of feeling good?
What growth are we denying ourselves when we immediately reach for comfort?
Finding Control in Chaos
Here's my confession: I'm a stress cleaner. When life feels overwhelming—when I'm facing job applications or mounting debt—you'll find me organizing drawers or deep-cleaning the bathroom.
It's not about cleanliness; it's about control. Each organized space, each completed chore, gives me a hit of accomplishment, a momentary relief from the larger uncertainties looming in my life.
And yes, this is procrastination in its purest form.
Beyond Procrastination: The Fear of Feeling
But here's what took me years to understand: procrastination isn't about laziness (though that's another trait I've wrestled with). It's about emotional avoidance—our inability to sit with difficult feelings.
Those moments of productive procrastination? They're just sophisticated escape routes from discomfort. Each cleaned counter and organized drawer provides temporary relief, but it also denies us something crucial: the opportunity for growth that comes from facing our challenges head-on.
The Edge of Growth
Every moment of discomfort—whether emotional or physical—is an invitation to expand our comfort zone. It's nature's way of saying, "Here's an opportunity to grow."
These uncomfortable moments challenge us to question our assumptions, examine our beliefs, and ultimately, become more resilient.
I've spent years studying my own tendency to flee from discomfort, trying to understand why the slightest unease can send me running for the nearest distraction.
This work isn't easy—it was never meant to be. But that's precisely what makes it valuable.
The Bear in the Room
[Disclaimer: I'm not a bear expert, and I've never encountered one in the wild. This is an analogy, not wilderness advice. For actual bear safety, consult experts here.]
Here's what fascinates me about bear encounters: the worst thing you can do is run. Flight triggers chase. Instead, experts advise standing your ground and making yourself appear larger.
This principle applies perfectly to our relationship with discomfort. Running from emotional challenges only makes them pursue us more persistently.
Standing our ground—facing our discomfort head-on—requires tremendous courage, but it's often our best path forward.
See how close you can get to understanding your discomfort
Standing Your Ground
When facing difficult emotions, our instinct screams "Run!" But just like with our metaphorical bear, running often makes things worse. Instead, we need to stand our ground, breathe through the racing thoughts, and face what's before us.
This practice of sitting with discomfort builds emotional resilience. It teaches us that we can endure more than we think, that we can adapt to life's overwhelming moments. But mastering this skill takes time—it's a lifetime practice.
Even now, after years of working on this, I still catch myself seeking busyness to avoid feelings I've carried for decades.
The Practice of Presence
When I catch myself in avoidance mode, I've learned to pause and ask myself:
Where am I right now, and what am I doing?
What path led me to this moment?
What emotion am I experiencing?
What am I trying to avoid, and why does it matter?
What might happen if I faced this head-on?
What's the real cost of continuing to avoid it?
These questions help me make a conscious choice: continue avoiding or turn and face my discomfort.
This practice, like any form of strength training, gets easier with repetition. Each time we choose to stay present with our discomfort, we build emotional resilience.
Over time, this growing strength allows us to approach life's challenges with greater empathy and openness.
Your Invitation to Discomfort
The next time you notice yourself avoiding something important—whether it's a challenging conversation, a daunting task, or an uncomfortable emotion—I invite you to pause.
Try asking yourself one of the questions above.
See how close you can get to understanding your discomfort before the urge to run takes over.
Remember: you don't have to solve everything at once. Start small. Take it step by step. And hey, at least you're not facing an actual bear.
This is part one of a series exploring personal growth through six guiding principles. While each piece stands alone, continue to "Embrace Boredom" where we'll discover how sitting with discomfort naturally leads to appreciating life's quiet moments.
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