Leaning into discomfort

 A few years ago, I spent Sunday mornings jumping into the ocean. In the summer it was pleasant enough, but winter - bloody cold!

During winter I joined a small group of 6-8 people in the morning darkness. We walked down the beach to where the water hit the sand, stripped down to our togs (swimwear), and stepped into the ocean.

Everyone had their own approach. Mine was a steady walk with sudden stops to brace against the freezing waves. When my feet touched the water, my body and mind went into shock. "What the f**k?" I thought. As the water reached my knees, the pain kicked in, it felt like razor blades were cutting into my legs. A voice in my head urged me to keep going, and that's what I did. Gradually, as the water hit my crotch, armpits, and shoulders, I felt alive, despite the cold.

This week, I started a new role at a different company. I’d just finished eight years in a job where I’d become comfortable, so comfortable I’d made a bed and fallen asleep in it. Every day was the same, and I convinced myself that it was ok to be bored.

I’d forgotten what it felt like to feel truly alive in my work. It was easier to blame the warm, safe environment than to step into the cold water of something new.

By the end of my first week of my new job, I was finding my rhythm. The initial shock and fear was definitely there on the first few days, but I kept going. I embraced the discomfort and moved through it.

I didn’t realize how talented I was at my previous job, everything had become automatic. Now, my brain is actively working, going through checklists to figure out what needs doing and who to ask. It’s a clever tool.

Discomfort isn’t comfortable. It’s scary and unpleasant. But once you commit and push through the initial steps, you start walking toward comfort.

Remember: it’s about the journey, not just the destination. When you finally reach comfort, it’s time to step out of the water, enjoy a warm brew, and plan your next Sunday morning swim.