Embracing Our Discomfort

“How are you, my friend?”

Do you find yourself asking your people this more often lately?
It’s a heavier question today than in times past, no?
What are we really asking? What do we want to know (or not)?
I opened last week’s post by asking, and again today; the redundance feels important and necessary.

It’s Pride Month, and I’m seeing a lot less of the “Wishing all the homophobes a super uncomfortable month” memes now compared to last year, which I’m glad about. I thought about updating my dissent post today, but I think it still stands strong on its own:
“…The best intention of this message, I think, is solidarity and allyship. The impact may be very different. I can imagine someone who feels uncomfortable, for whatever reason, with non-cis/het identity feeling rejected, shamed, and even hated by this message. What response is this likely to engender? How does that make anything better for anyone? How does it advance the cause?
“…If we were all better at embracing our various discomforts (healthy eating, exercising more, being more honest with ourselves and others, having the hard conversations, etc.), at making it safe for one another to engage with and overcome them, how would that feel? How would our relationships and communities be? Right now we make it safe to respond to our discomforts with rage, blame, and dehumanizing. When I see people wishing discomfort on others, I’m disappointed.
“We can do better.”

A friend and I have exchanged messages about the value of discomfort, how it makes us stop and take perspective, how it shapes us and can make us better.

“A comfort zone is a beautiful place, but nothing ever grows there.” –unattributed

I still never wish discomfort on anyone. But I’m happy to encourage folks to embrace its inevitability and possibility for growth through it. Let us seek and engage with the worthy discomforts–those which move us through our stagnant assumptions and mental rigidities toward creativity, discovery, and deeper connection. And let’s do it together–mutually supportive and loving, striving always for better understanding, acceptance, and community through the joys and challenges of diversity and inclusion.

Embracing our discomfort often means acknowledging and facing our fears.
Fear is a legitimate and important emotion, required for survival throughout our evolution. Besides pain, is there a more uncomfortable sensation than threat and fear?
Can we recognize when our anger, righteousness, arrogance, disengagement, and even hatred are all founded on unacknowledged, limbic, or even existential fear?
Can we kindly, patiently, curiously, and humbly help one another explore and unpack it all?

How comfortable are any of us with any of this?
How much easier is it to declare categorical truths with certainty and authority, dismissing nuance and complexity, suppressing doubt, and rejecting earnest discussion and debate?

We each get to choose how we show up to our fears, how we cope with discomfort.
Sometimes all we can do is turn around and run the other way. We can deflect or armor up. They’re called ‘defense mechanisms’ for good reason, and the older I get the more I see and accept that we all have them. Each of us comes by our own honestly, and judging one another for them rarely makes anything better. Discomfort makes us squirelly at best, destructive at worst.

What if we shared our comfort with one another?

I messaged a friend last weekend:
“Reconnected with (a guy friend) recently, who is now a transitioning woman and agreed to take me to my first silent book club at a lesbian speakeasy this month! [Mentioned here last week–I’m very excited about this.]
“Omg dear one, our world is so chaotic and uncertain, and yet there is still SO MUCH GOOD in the day to day, face to face, in person connections of love and shared humanity. I hope you feel as surrounded by it as I do.”
Clearly, I feel very comfortable with gender transition.

But I know people for whom transgenderism is extremely uncomfortable, an unfathomable and existential threat to their core values and beliefs about humanity. I sense their acute distress, their stuckness, their utter helplessness to understand or accept the concept and get to peace with it–especially when a loved one discloses and transitions. I wish I could take away their sorrow and anguish. I know it’s not because they ‘hate’ transgender people or wish for anyone to repress their authentic selves. Their discomfort is not rooted in malice. And their experience far and away exceeds ‘discomfort,’ but I use this example to remind myself that humans come to any given issue or idea with a vast variety and complexity of attitudes, histories, and comfort levels.

The better we can tolerate, embrace, and process our discomfort, the stronger and more resilient we can be in the face of adversity and true threats to our survival, I think. And I wish for no one to have to do this alone.
Genuine human connection mitigates pain, suffering, and the extreme discomforts of fear, grief, and uncertainty. It is the most effective balm for what ails our hearts.

So this Pride Month and beyond, when we feel uncomfortable about something, anything, may we reach out with vulnerability and courage ahead of anger and antagonism. May our first instincts be to connect more than to judge. May we meet others’ discomfort with empathy, compassion, understanding, and patience. We can do this even in the smallest encounter, with few or even no words, with the most fleeting of looks. It takes practice. Thankfully, life presents us with the opportunity every time we meet another human.

What Anger Makes Us

Trail near The Lodge at Whitefish Lake, Whitefish, Montana

Dear Readers,
I wish you all the curious, thoughtful, open, and loving friends like I have!
The same person I mentioned in “What Does Love Make Us?”, Sean, helped inspire this post tonight, coaxing insights to emerge just by being his curious, thoughtful, open, and loving self. Earlier I wrote a brief list of what I think love makes us:
Vulnerable. Courageous. Powerful. Forgive. Willing. Selfless. Grow. Better.

So what does anger make us? A dichotomy emerged in conversation today:

Adversaries
We see it everywhere: Rage poured forth, one person onto another, groups against each other. It’s us against them, no question, no nuance, no reflection, ‘no quarter.’ Yikes.

It’s understandable, of course, and sometimes even justified, this adversarial mindset and approach to the opposition, ‘the enemy’. Longstanding experiences of socially accepted marginalization, dismissal, and oppression fester and seethe, then spew forth like pus under pressure. As with any abscess, lancing that pent up wrath relieves pain, even as the initial incision stings momentarily.

Then we ‘go to war,’ as some might say. We ‘fight’. We take both an offensive and defensive stance, we weaponize our words, and we make all the worst assumptions of those we pre-judge as against us. We close our minds to alternative perspectives, plow forward with agendas that we believe can only be achieved by vanquishing all who resist. Even if our mindset is not this extreme, we risk sliding down that slippery slope. Abstraction and dehumanization of anyone ‘on the other side’ happens all too easily, my friends, and the louder the adversarial voices around us, the more pressure we feel to follow suit.

Where and what does this get us?

Looking back on my own life, on policy and human history, I can think of few tangible examples where the adversarial approach has benefited us, individuals and the collective alike, in the long run. And when it does, the costs are extraordinarily high, often borne by those with the least power or choice. Death, destruction, trauma, and lives irrevocably shattered–the adversarial route of anger scorches the earth.

Advocates
I have a friend who exudes rage and has suffered relationship and reputation damage from it. It makes me cringe because I understand the origin of their anger as protectiveness, righteous outrage on behalf of others, and a belly full of fire to do good.

I have also witnessed them advocate for their causes with diplomatic, almost loving assertiveness toward total strangers. They are bold but respectful, strong and friendly, a force of nature, like a stiff wind that envelopes and nudges you firmly but not forcefully from behind, getting you to where you might have been going just a little faster and with more urgency. People receive their words and advocacy with openness, curiosity, and a willingness to consider action; how often do you see interactions like this?

In January I wrote “Tested and Called“, feeling angry and a little hopeless after Alex Pretti’s murder by border patrol agents. It was my first documented “DIY pep talk“, I see now. I wrote about anger and courage, ‘hope’s two daughters.’ I reminded myself that in the face of all that makes me angry, I can and must continue to show up and ‘fight’ for things and people I care about. Better writers than I have made the distinction between fighting for and fighting against. It’s a subtle attitude shift that matters.

Fighting against–being adversarial–too easily devolves into ad hominem and caustic division: name calling, shaming, othering, dismissing, dehumanizing, and even violence. The external focus and negative energy depletes us, and when we see little to no progress we burn out. Fighting for, or advocacy, on the other hand, carries a light from within, an intrinsic motivation of renewable energy, fostered and amplified when any progress is made. Advocacy attracts allies, grows a movement, and creates sustained and sustainable change agency.

The language of advocacy centers the cause, not the opposition. It informs, educates, inspires, and empowers. Advocacy demands accountability of the systems it seeks to change, as well as its own advocates themselves. The strongest and most effective advocates strive always to walk the talk.

I have written this blog for eleven years. Surely there are posts that I would not write, or write differently, today compared to when they were published. Information evolves, and I along with it. My attitudes and opinions change with age and experience. But I can stand with confidence by the intent of every post here as non-adversarial advocacy of some kind–even when the execution misses the mark. I look for others with a similar ethos, especially in medicine and science.

Whom do you admire for their non-adversarial advocacy?
What good do you see them doing in the world?
How can we amplify them?

Below are Instagram accounts that I follow for their strong advocacy in the face of threats to the integrity of our scientific and medical institutions. Some of their posts verge on adversarial, but for the most part I perceive an earnest, professional, and evidence-based mission to protect public safety. And of course I think of Braver Angels and Builders for their work to bridge division and move us away from adversarial political engagement.

Lastly, apologies for this second delayed post–life! Quality time with Son and Daughter, both home from college, took precedence over sitting at the laptop. Worth it! May we all have such meaningful and fulfilling choices to make!

Fired But Fighting

Illinois Department of Public Health

Stand Up For Science!

American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists (ACOG)

DogGlauc: Will Flanary, MD

In Person, Face to Face, One on One: Crowns Lesson #3

“Openness to our minds changing is NOT weakness. It is the strength of intellectual humility.”

How do you come to really understand and know anyone, then overcome differences?

Many of my friendships have begun remotely–on Facebook, this blog, interest groups, even on the phone. But they do not solidify until we meet in person. It is the natural progression of relationship, to be in each other’s presence. The energy is profoundly different, the connection tangible and tactile.

Throughout the Crowns Trilogy, relationships develop and transform through repeated in person meetings, between lovers, adversaries, allies, strangers, and family members. Communication occurs through letters and messengers, posture and political actions, but it is the face to face encounters that challenge biases, build trust, and solidify alliances. Repeated rupture and repair in indispensible relationships, committed and restored in person through words, expressions, or acts, reminds us that there is no substitute modality for true connection.

Physical proximity is not enough. Connection requires emotional and psychological presence, the offering and acceptance of attention, and the mutual willingness to engage in good faith.

The main characters in Crowns overcome traumatic and tragic barriers to connect, and save their kingdoms, driven by two primary motives: Love and Peace. Why can’t we do the same? Norah, Mikhail, Alexander, and Soren engage one another and also themselves with intensity, ambivalence, and serious conflict. But they keep showing up, never abandoning their commitments to do the necessary bridging work for the people and causes that matter most to them. Consider how the following patterns apply to your encounters with people who disagree with you, politically or in any other domain. Can we practice these for the sake of love, peace, and saving ourselves from one another?

Multiple meetings. Important issues almost never resolve in one try. Anyone who leads knows this. The larger and more complex the organization or issue, the more iterative the solutions necessarily must be. Sustainable progress only occurs when participants practice transparency, honesty, and accountability. This requires vulnerability, courage, and a willingness to compromise over time. Sometimes meeting is unavoidable, such as in family or workplaces. We can choose to stonewall or refuse to engage in this case, but that is not an option for connection and conflict resolution. Concerted effort in repeated negatiation and exchange in good faith–diplomacy–is a life skill.

Cultivating connection. All of the above does not emerge immediately. We humans sense threat and danger acutely. It takes multiple meetings to prove safety and earn trust, during which commitments are honored and confidences kept. This is how relationships are built. I identify with Norah in Crowns because she is so often the one initiating and sustaining contact and engagement, and she almost never declines invitations offered by others. She exercises patience, persistence, and celebration of any progress, as do I.

Mutual respect. Over and again, Norha, Mikhail, Alexander, and Soren recognize and acknowledge their rivals’ strengths and merits. They and the supporting characters exercise objectivity in assessing one another’s achievements. When in the other’s domain, each learns and adheres to customs therein, even as they disagree with the beliefs behind them. There can be no peace or lasting conflict resolution without mutual respect.

Commitment to possibility despite heavy resistance. Countless times others tell Norah that peace is not possible, that war and death are inevitable, that people and systems cannot change. They cling to wariness and stubborn disbelief, rigid negative assumptions and prejudices as if they are immutable truths. But she holds possibility in front, with the primary assumption of and commitment to preserving shared humanity. Because of her advocacy and mediation, spanning the boundaries of belief and experience, the others eventually, begrudgingly, recognize and acknowledge the limitations of their prejudices and come around. Her idealism overcomes their cynicism and wins the day.

In the end everything has a cost.
Polarization, division, and mutual adversarial attempts to vanquish the opposition, at their worst, cost lives, whether through small violent confrontations or full on war. Social, operational, and economic costs also escalate, with lasting deleterious effects.

What does bridging work cost? For us regular people, it costs our comfort, for sure. It takes time, energy, and even resources to acquire and practice the skills. What would bridging work cost elected leaders, in addition? What if they all sat down in person, face to face, one on one, more often and earnestly?

What are the costs of not bridging our differences? I have heard too many stories of relationships torn apart by unresolved disagreements; the loss and grief are real and tragic. Openness in relationships also suffers, causing people to self-censor honest expression for the sake of ‘keeping the peace’–a fragile and hollow peace. These psychological and relational costs are exactly what fester and fray our social and personal fabric.

We all get to decide what benefits of bridging work are worth what costs to ourselves. I am convinced that in order to elect leaders who possess the skills and capacity to engage regularly, respectfully, and in good faith, we must be willing to do so ourselves, as citizens. It is now the era when we regular people must lead by example.

Because if not us, then who?