Humility in Unknown Possibility | Blog

A week spent uncomfortable, rereading, and waiting to exhale

Last week, I published a blog post discussing my doubts about a new opportunity presented to me. My doubt in myself, and having the tools to navigate what the opportunity requires of me. To face this doubt head-on, I spent a week rereading, studying, pouring over the opportunity. Taking a microscope to every sentence, and seeing where it landed in the soul. As though trying to cultivate its soil in my soul and germinate its growth. I wanted to share what I learned.

I found myself waiting to exhale. Jaw clenched, shoulders tense, and hips tight. Every day presented a new day of rereading, restudying, and exercising the prayer, discernment, and study to steady myself. Not really an act in becoming comfortable, but more so an act in being okay with the uncomfortable. But the whole week felt like inhale with no exhale.

In last week’s blog post, I shared how I would navigate the doubt, the uncertainty, and the lack of trust within myself

1. Breath: I inhaled.
2. Reminders: I affirmed my trust in myself throughout the week.
3. Spirituality: I praised and prayed.

And what I did not expect was for the above to support me in honoring the uncomfortable space I sat in. Instead of a soothing release, each of these tools aided me in sitting with the pain I felt. The grief I processed, and the hip tightness that spoke of the ancestral ache that has suddenly hit my body and soul.

Today, I woke up with no voice. The allergies, pollen, and tightness, now occupying my ability to speak. What I found was that this tightness was from a week of inhaling with no exhale. A week spent reminding myself to trust, but lacking the awareness to affirm and say, “I welcome pain. I welcome discomfort”. The prayers and praises, while forgetting to lament the ache in my soul. I had forgotten that the doubt and tightness were created for a reason, and maybe even a lesson.

I rode to church, got to church, and sat in church feeling the exhaustion of a week spent in the depths of the friction between comfort and growth. Spent in the shedding of the protective barriers that have served me, but are no longer necessary to my survival. And furthermore, the religion I subscribe to is call and response, participatory, and in Eastertide, which means a ton of music is sung, and I had to be incredibly conservative with my voice. I had to sing with my heart. Pray with my energy. And be okay with my silence.

While sitting there, with the eucharist melting on my tongue, and with my head bowed in silent prayer, there was a sudden urge to

Inhale: I am grateful

Exhale: I release control

Inhale: I am uncomfortable

Exhale: I release control

Inhale: I have faith

Exhale: I release control

Inhale: I mourn

Exhale: I release control

Then suddenly it’s almost as though I could feel my entire soul settle. I could feel the shoulders relax, my throat loosen, and the exhaustion sink into my bones. I had exhaled. There are so many lessons here, but I will cover two today.

A lesson on control.

If you are reading this, and you are family, thank you for knowing me. But that also means you know, I am a control freak. Being a control freak was something I learned after realizing from a young age that I could not depend on people. I could not trust in the basics, and therefore, I became a control freak. My family likes to say I am “independent to a fault”, but let’s just be real, I love to be in control. And sitting in the discomfort brought on by an opportunity that brings about intense emotional discomfort and pain and grief and that requires me to harvest such emotion into creative artistry, well it feels more like an opportunity to be out of control. And that’s the challenge. But to exhale in radical acceptance that I am safe to release control. I am safe to trust. I am safe. That is an incredible breakthrough on my journey to release patterns that no longer serve me.

A lesson on exhale

The second lesson is one about the difference between exhale and release. I think I was afraid to exhale because I would release the discomfort and pain in a dismissive manner. And I can promise you, nothing in this work that I’m committed to should be dismissed. As I take it very seriously, and want to honor the burden placed in my soul to carry for now. But what I found was quite the opposite. In my exhale, I found the pain, sorrow, grief, and discomfort settling deeper into my heart. Kind of like, for my birthing people, when you take a deep breath after having a contraction. It was not a release, but instead an opportunity for my body to find new places for the discomfort to settle. A breath and exhale, celebrating the discomfort that births in new life.

In learning to release control and settle into the discomfort, I’m learning that this will be a long journey. Release is nowhere close. But it is a journey I am committing to. An opportunity to stretch my artistry, but more so an opportunity to hold the pain I have been avoiding. And release the patterns, barriers, fears, and behaviors that are no longer serving me.

Dear reader, I hope you, find the discomfort you’ve been avoiding and exhale into it; releasing control and embracing trust along the way. Here’s to the next chapter of my story;