What My Daughter Taught Me About Discomfort

I’ve felt a bit “off” this past week. A heaviness at times throughout the day. An anxiety tugging at my heart.

I can’t say exactly what it was or why. I like to blame all these things on perimenopause because…why not!

One tangible thing I can pinpoint, however, is that I received an unexpected call from my kids’ school last week (eek!).

At gym class, one of the teachers overheard a kid say something about June (my youngest) being a “slow runner” and that she probably wouldn’t be able to finish the warm-up.

June didn’t hear the comment herself, although this isn’t the first time something like this has come up. Last spring during a soccer game, a girl on the other team said to her directly, “Why are you like that?”

For context, June has a neuromuscular disability. These days it affects her life in a relatively minor way, but she does work 2–3x as hard as many other kids when it comes to physical stuff, like running, dancing, and climbing lots of stairs.

But here’s what: this girl THRIVES on hard work. She’s incredibly self-aware, both emotionally and physically. She understands her challenges and her limits, and she’s not afraid to push herself.

June later found out about the gym class comment, and while she was upset, she wasn’t deterred. By the end of the day, she was already talking about plans to share a book and a lesson with her class about disabilities and inclusion.

I keep coming back to that. To her willingness to acknowledge the discomfort and move forward. To take that shitty moment and turn it into connection and a learning opportunity for her classmates.

Being ok with the discomfort, the liminal, the in-between, the ambivalence…that’s something I’ve personally worked on for years and one of the reasons I keep coming “back to my mat” (as yoga-girl cliché as that sounds).

Yoga can invite a slowdown of body and mind. Yoga asana, the physical poses, can help us stretch and strengthen.

But yoga philosophy also teaches us that the growth is in the discomfort. I’ll cling to that for years to come. And I invite you to explore it as well.

P.S. In a coincidental but full-circle moment, June is the April guest reader for Dial-a-Story through the Milton Public Library. She reads We Move Together, a beautiful kids’ book about disability justice, community, and collective care. Check out details on how to call in and listen.

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Turning 45: Cheers to the bittersweet & the in-between