The Rakes of Discomfort

One of the things I always loved about The Simpsons was how nothing was off limits. 

There were no sacred cows that couldn’t be challenged, ridiculed or criticised.

It was actually written into the deal with FOX.

In one episode, Sideshow Bob is released from prison, and clings to the bottom of the Simpsons’ car for hours, in an attempt to finally get his revenge on Bart.

When the car finally stops, after an unplanned detour through a cactus field, Bob rolls out from under the car, only to immediately step on a rake, then another, and another, and so on.

I doubt it was the intention of the writers, but continually stepping on rakes is a powerful metaphor for the way many of us live our lives.

Let me explain…

There was a time when I was a real gym bunny. 

It was just one summer at university, when I had really nothing else to do.

So I went to the gym. 5 days a week, 2 hours a day, pumping iron. 

The sessions in the gym were a lot of hard work, a lot of pain, a lot of wanting to give up.

But with the support of my friend and coach, Cameron, I got through each session, and it was worth it when, at the end of the summer, I had put on 20lbs in muscle.

I looked great, I felt great, and I barely remembered the pain and struggle I had to go through to get there.

It’s probably no surprise to you to hear that if you want big biceps, you have to train with weights somehow.

If you want to run faster, or climb harder, or hit a 300 game at the bowling alley, you have to put in the hours. 

Yet when it comes to a relationship, or a business or some kind of life change, we expect it to somehow be different. 

We just expect that even though I don’t feel it today, tomorrow I’m going to wake up and I’m going to be really motivated. 

Or I’ll be brushing my teeth and I’ll just find it there in the sink. 

“Oh look, There’s all that courage that I need to have that conversation!” 

It’s as if we expect courage, motivation, creativity, boldness to be like those little toys that used to come in cereal packets. 

“Mum! I got fearlessness today! Now I have the whole set! YAY!”

But guess what. These things are muscles, just like your biceps. 

These things have to be built up. 

The other day I was teaching a couple of people to rock climb with a friend.

We wanted to demonstrate how to catch someone with the rope if they fall, and I had no problem jumping off the cliff, falling 25ft and then carrying on climbing as if nothing had happened.

But it wasn’t always that way.

It has taken 15 years of climbing to get to that point.

The first time I had to trust that the rope would hold my weight I was a total disaster.

Just like the first time I made a $20,000 proposal to a potential client.

Or the first time I spoke on stage.

Or asked for what I actually, really, truly want. 

The truth is that these things never get easier or less scary. 

But as we work those muscles it’s our capacity to be with that fear, and to be with that discomfort that expands.

And our capacity to be with discomfort determines the range of experience within which we can hold on to our beingness.

When I jumped off that cliff, I chatted the whole way down through the fall. 

There was very real fear, but my training allowed me to be with that fear and not succumb to it.

I still have fear around proposals, public speaking, and all of that stuff, but I have a greater capacity now than I did before to just allow the discomfort to be present.

I can be ME through the discomfort.

I react less, and respond more. I can observe my patterns as they play out and make different choices. 

There is space between stimulus and response.

Most people never go there. 

They never get to the other side of whatever it is that they find uncomfortable. 

It could be the fear of a new climbing route. 

It could be having a conversation with your partner about that thing that they always do that really drives you up the wall.

It could be making a bold proposal to a client, or launching a new business.

It could be speaking on stage.

It could be anything.

It’s scary. It sucks. It hurts.

So many people just spend their whole life stepping on the rakes of discomfort, because they can’t handle the discomfort of going through it. 

So when things get hard they decide “this isn’t for me. I’m going over here instead.” 

And then lo and behold, there’s another rake. It looks different, but really it’s the same rake.

“Well, this clearly isn’t for me either. Because this hurts too. I’m going to go over here.”

In an effort to stay safe and comfortable, all we achieve is constantly banging our head against the rakes of discomfort, and nothing ever changes.

We never get to where we want to be.

Bu it’s also not about diving right in at the deep end and doing the thing that scares you most. 

When I went to the gym for the first time, I could barely bench press the bare bar.

It is about tiny acts of courage. 

Adventure, or growth, or inspiration, or flow, or whatever you want to call it exists just on the other side of your comfort zone. 

In the magic zone where the challenge is 4% higher than the skill level, that’s where flow exists.

And that’s why we need people in our lives who can help us to identify the rakes before we stand on them, to navigate a path through them to the other side.

To help us identify where that sweet spot is. How much challenge is the right amount of challenge. 

To hold our hands when we get scared, and to hold our feet to the fire when we want to pull back.

Because here’s the kicker. Just like Sideshow Bob, we are all surrounded by rakes, which we can’t see, and will continue to step on them until someone points them out to us.

Only then can we do the work of clearing them out of the path.

If you feel like you’re continually standing on rakes, and are getting fed up with the bruises on your face, let’s go on an adventure.

If you feel like you need some support in the discomfort gym, let’s talk.

Don’t be like Sideshow Bob.