Last Saturday I spent 5hrs and 45minutes on my mountain bike, covering a course of 52 miles and climbing over 5K feet in elevation. This ride covered a wide variety of terrain, from road, to gravel, to thick mud riddled with cow dung. At one point, every rider had to dismount and carry their bikes up a 35% incline, this was made especially hard by my choice to compete on a mountain bike, compared to the majority who chose a lighter gravel style ride. I had been fearful that I wouldn’t be able to finish the race, that my body wouldn’t be able to hang. I had been fearful that I’d crash, get hit by a car, or charged by a bull (which did happen to a rider in 2022). None of that happened, of course, and I finished with the biggest smile on my face.
I didn’t feel confident going into Saturday’s race. It wasn’t a “comfy” experience. But I did it. And having finished, I’ve gained some confidence in my own biking abilities, I’ve expanded my idea of what is “comfy”. I’ve grown.
Confidence is something that I struggle with. Something I have always struggled with to some extent. My sense of confidence can be quite fragile, and dependent upon external factors – such as appraisal and affirmation from others. What I hadn’t really considered until recently is just how closely confidence is tied to failure, both our perceptions of and experiences with. It was through a coaching session at work that this lightbulb flashed on. For me, a lack of confidence has translated into a deep fear of, and aversion to, failure. As such, I can find myself stuck in patterns of comfortability. And why is this a problem? Well, because growth lies beyond comfortability.
Through an exercise that required reflecting upon failures’ presence in my life, I was encouraged to consider times in my life where I took a risk and then failed. As I thought back on the last 31 years, at least the parts that I can remember, I came to the realization that I don’t have all too many experiences of failure. I think that is at least in part due to my tendency to take what I will call “calculated risks”. I rarely put myself into a situation where I think I might fail. Instead, I pursue those things that I know I will do well at and stray away from those that might reveal weakness. I think many of us probably do this. It’s normal. Yet, the problem with approaching life in such a way is that, though we might be comfortable, we become stagnant.
I see this play out in my life in several ways –
- In work – I stay within the provided parameters as opposed to broadening my realm of possibility and inviting in more initiatives of expansion.
- In exercise – shying away when the burning sensation begins to creep in; pushing myself to a place of exhaustion, fearing what a regimen “shake-up” might do to my overall fitness.
- Creative pursuits – continuing to prioritize tangible to-dos over time that is dedicated to creative expression and even just play.
The way to combat such a propensity to stay within the realm of what is comfortable is through productive discomfort, defined as the awareness that some discomfort is necessary in order to grow and change [Thompsonschools.org]. In order to invite some productive discomfort into my life, I am committing to intentionally placing myself in uncomfortable situations. Why? Because I want to continue to learn new things. I want to grow more comfortable with the possibility of failing at something, and in turn, I want to strengthen my own confidence in my ability to rise up to a challenge and to persevere when things don’t go as planned, or as hoped.
I have established a few examples of what constitutes as an “uncomfortable situation” for me:
- At work I can practice speaking up in meetings where I’d prefer to stay quiet.
- Within the scope of exercise, I can lean into a challenging workout AND I can embrace a “slowing down” – inviting in more yoga, long walks and heavy strength training.
- In the creative realm, I can block out an evening for “creation”, foregoing the demands of my ever present, and ever growing, to-do list.
All of the above make me uncomfortable. At work, I fear rejection. With exercise, I fear the pain of an intense workout, as well as fearing what might accompany a “slowing down” – will I gain weight? Will I lose my “edge”? In terms of creative time, will this be a waste? What will I do with what I create? Still, it is in the uncomfortable that we grow. I want to grow.
How will I know that I am making progress towards bringing more productive discomfort into my life? How will I measure this intention? I have a couple of ideas.
To start, I’d like to get in the habit of asking myself, What did I fail at today? I remember listening to a podcast interview where the interviewee shared that her Dad used to ask this question to her and her siblings at the end of each day. The point was to remind his kids that failure is what leads to growth, to learning, normalizing and even celebrating the taking of risks that result in failure.
The other two questions I’d like to ask myself at the end of each day are: What made me uncomfortable today? And, what did I do differently today? These two questions allow me to acknowledge that I am leaning into the unknown, the uncomfortable and the uncertain.
A necessity of growth is discomfort. At a moderate level, stressors make us stronger. And yet, we live in a society that is designed to make things as comfortable and convenient as possible. We often view discomfort and failure as meaning something is wrong. But does it? Isn’t it through those uncomfortable conversations that relationships gain depth and are made stronger? Isn’t it through lifting a heavier weight that our muscles fatigue and then grow, developing the capacity to withstand more? Isn’t it through finishing one challenging task that we develop the aptitude for the next? We have to embrace the discomfort to become stronger, to grow, to become more confident.
And so, dear reader, I ask you…
What does the word failure bring up for you?
When was the last time you took a risk and failed?
How might leaning into the discomfort and the potential of failure benefit you?
backtomeblog.com 