Step out of coziness and pursue discomfort, on purpose. Try something new, even if it’s not fancy. Push into the “I wants,” and the “I wishes.” Be extravagant and brazen, and leave complacency behind.
Maybe, though, there is one more thing we need to leave behind, and that is misery. Suffering and sorrow are piece and parcel of the gift that is life. If we are lucky, there is also joy. Some of us have to dig for the joy.
Dig we must, because otherwise, we will be overrun by the suffering, and I don’t know about you, but sorrow makes me weary. Weary people do not plan, explore, or conquer. There is no seizing of the day.
Instead, we pacify malaise, with scrolling, food, and other, more treacherous methods. We feed it, and it holds us fast, but there are antidotes! New and exhilarating experiences can lift us up; maybe into discomfort, at first. Growth hurts, and then it is glorious, and then it hurts a little, and inch by inch we break free.
These are the adventures I honor these days, as I approach forty: bold leaps, and small steps, in no apparent order, that unshackle me from numbness. I’m not reaching all of my goals, and some days, none of my goals, but I’m doing less to get in my own way.
We all have things we wanted to do. We all hold the same horrid, self-imposed limitations. We all have fear; of falling, or failing, or appearing foolish.
Some of us have grown frail with age. Some of us have harbored sneaky illnesses, and they are getting the best of us. There are bad days, ones where we cannot lift our heads. I know people fighting these battles, right now.
