Moving Through the Discomfort of ‘Not Knowing’

For many people, 2020 has become a time of deep reflection, contemplation and oftentimes discomfort. “There are so many things that are currently out of our control,” notes Esalen faculty Ben Geilhufe. “People are fighting for their lives due to COVID-19 and other health issues. People are continually fighting for social justice, physical safety and emotional safety in the face of more than 400 years of systemic racism and white supremacy in this country. People are fighting to feed themselves and their families and to stay housed or locate housing. There are so many sources of overwhelm.”

As we all move through uncertainty in the midst of significant change together, we reached out to several Esalen faculty and discovered the ways they move through discomfort during major transitions. They include: Lucy Caldwell, a social psychologist and venture philanthropist, who helped conceive the Women's Visionary Leadership Summit last year at Esalen, which takes place again this year October 16-28; and Ben, the director of community-based clinical programs for the University of San Francisco Child and Adolescent Gender Center.

What are several actions you take when you notice discomfort?
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"For me, the discomfort that arises during major transitions—and even smaller transitions—often centers around the unknown. What will happen? Will my loved ones be okay? Will I? When I notice my discomfort during my own overwhelm, I explore what is triggering the discomfort and what my emotional and cognitive experience is in response. I return to my training in mindfulness and slow down, naming what I observe to be true in my body. What emotions am I experiencing? What sensations? What thoughts are connected to my emotions and sensations? Over the last few months, these thoughts have often focused on lack of control. To navigate this, I have made lists of what I don't have control over to name and externalize the fear or the anxiety. I then return to what I do know and what I currently have control over—and make some more lists. Some days, I've had to do this three or four times. I have focused on creating a solid routine and on giving myself understanding and compassion when I don't stick to it. My routine includes some kind of movement every day—walking in my neighborhood, pacing in my house, yoga—playing music and three meals per day. I set alarms in my phone for my meals because I noticed that eating was the first thing to slip my mind during overwhelm. I focused on my basic needs: sleep, food, air, water, shelter, clothing. I am incredibly privileged to have access to all of those things as we navigate these larger transitions."
—BEN GEILHUFE

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"I have come to understand that it is precisely in the moments of significant discomfort that I make the greatest leaps. This has been true both in my personal life and in my career, and to such an extent I would offer that the discomfort itself may be the mechanism that fuels the engine of transformation. During such times I have found it essential to focus on the fundamentals and have an honest inner dialogue with myself to clarify and orient toward what matters most. Perhaps the best analogy comes from growing up swimming in the ocean. As a large set of waves forms on the horizon and I feel my heartbeat intensify, I move toward the cresting wave with strong forward strokes. It is a necessary propulsion to avoid becoming tossed about in the churning white water. For me, these forward ‘strokes’ are defined by summoning my inner reserves of courage, amplified curiosity to learn and seek out wisdom, honing my own values by asking myself the revealing questions and doubling down on the practices that help me to nourish myself (breathing, time in nature, moving my body, writing and friendship). I also find that aligning myself to service and the deeper purpose beyond my own self-interest is a vital guiding force during such periods of transformation. A wonderful place to begin is to ask myself each day: ‘what can I do today, in this moment, in this week?'"
—LUCY CALDWELL

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What have you noticed when you’re on the other side of the discomfort?

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‍"I don't see transitions and the discomfort associated with those transitions as having a defined beginning and tangible end. So for me, there isn't an ‘other side,’ but rather a new section of road that I'm walking as I navigate change. I notice my physical body and my emotional experience growing accustomed to the change. In my body, I notice less tension in my shoulders, more ease in getting to sleep, more of an appetite and less hyperarousal, in general. In my emotional experience, I notice more patience with myself and with others, more interest in a wider variety of activities that may bring me joy and more of a willingness to explore new activities or new relationships that I may not have had capacity for while I was navigating higher levels of discomfort. In my experience, the absence of discomfort has meant one of two things:

1. I've disengaged from what is happening to the point that I no longer feel impacted by it.
2. The cause of the discomfort has subsided.

With the two primary pandemics that we are currently navigating—the COVID-19 pandemic and the pandemic of systemic racism—there is no tangible end. The discomfort fluctuates, but there is no end to it. There is no end date on the calendar for the virus. Anti-racism is a fight that began centuries ago and will continue for centuries to come—hopefully with more change as the fight progresses. Our discomfort will shift and fluctuate as our experiences within the pandemics shift and fluctuate, and that will have different meaning for all of our different bodies. My goals in the past few months have been to support my physical and emotional experiences with routine and self-care, as well as noticing when my discomfort decreases due to disengagement and taking action to re-engage. "
—BEN GEILHUFE

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" Sometimes there is a big emotional release that can bubble up in the aftermath of major shifts and I have learned to surrender and let this part in. It is the pent-up release of having to hold everything together during the big ascent. In some cases, I have decided to create a ritual or rite of passage to mark the close of the last chapter and the beginning of a new one after a period of major change. This can be as simple as me going into the woods and writing in a journal or can include a more intentional gathering with friends and loved ones to share stories and break bread and dance by a bonfire. There are so many possibilities when we open ourselves to the idea of celebrating life’s milestones with love and intention. One major shift I experienced lately was in regard to learning more about my blind spots and lack of awareness on aspects of racism and race relations both within myself and within our culture at large. Being born in Mexico and growing up in a diverse community, and within a family with progressive views on race, I had assumed the identity of being ‘not racist’—full stop. What I did not realize until the upswell of events surrounding the Black Lives Matter movement was the extent of my blind spots and the way in which holding this identity in static terms was preventing me from doing the inward journey of full self-reflection and responsibility as both an individual and within the communities I am a part of. I am now replacing my internal label with a much more humble beginner’s mindset to learn, and deepen my commitment to understanding and helping to heal these collective wounds and injustice with greater focus and stamina."
—LUCY CALDWELL