Gareth and I have known each other for many years, and it is an honour and a pleasure to be asked to contribute to this community. When he asked me what topic I wanted to write about, what immediately came to mind is “discomfort.”

By nature and by circumstance, I have spent a fair amount of my life sitting in discomfort: the physical pain of being a competitive athlete, the turmoil of living with a parent with substance abuse, the gutting grief after the death of a parent. I have spent time sitting with darkness, be it my own or a companion’s.

My path has provided many teachers and opportunities to learn and grow. As a child, my mother and grandmother modeled (stereo)typical Scandinavian pragmatism and perseverance, "doing the hard thing." Coaches pushed me to push myself. Importantly, teachers held space for me in my darkest moments while still holding me to account.

I didn't see the through line of this education until my mother's illness and eventual death from breast cancer. The grief was stunning and complex but it did not sink me. In the aftermath of my mother's death, my cousin took me under her wing. One evening, she towed me along to a talk given by a Buddhist teacher. That night was a revelation, articulating what I had observed throughout my life. We all suffer. It is a universal condition. We all seek to avoid suffering. And we all have a responsibility to alleviate our suffering and that of others around us.

But what really struck me were the teachings of impermanence. Just as nothing outside of me lasts forever, so to my feelings and perceptions and experiences. The pain that I feel - sorrow, anger, irritation - is a flag, warning me to pay attention, examine my expectations, attachments or assumptions.

Sitting, observing with mindfulness, and contemplating my reactions, assumptions, or biases has helped me find gratitude for hardship and discomfort. I am reminded that, to date, I have survived every one of my hardest days. In many cases, not simply “survived” but emerged stronger, more centred and with more tools in my proverbial toolkit.

In turn, this serves me when life inevitably takes an unexpected turn. I am reminded that I am adaptable, courageous and will persevere. Nothing lasts forever, not even the dark times.

I am privileged to be able to use these tools in my professional life as well, working as a manager in Labour Relations for the federal public service. It is my perfect porridge of technical expert, life coach and emotional helpmeet. I encourage, advise and outright cajole managers through the intricacies of the employer-employee dynamic, ranging from quotidian questions around collective agreements, to managing catastrophic life events for employees, to situations of egregious wrongdoing.

It is the uncomfortable reality of managing humans, and is emotionally and cognitively taxing. But time and time again, I have witnessed the transformation of individuals as they confront the darkness and the difficulty and keep moving forward. We strengthen our resolve, our integrity and our wisdom grows.

As Anna sang, "You are lost, hope is gone / But you must go on / And do the next right thing."

I am mindful that by sitting in the darkness with someone else, I am blessed with the opportunity to pay back all the teachers that have passed through my life.

Coming Up Next on the #WhatsYourSparkBlog
August 17: Inspired by Kristina’s post, I’ve decided to share a very personal piece of writing I’ve been working on called “Life Lessons from Hope, Family and The Gift of Time.” In this piece I write about navigating both the bad and the good of the last two years, from loss, illness and the pandemic, to turning 40 and new beginnings.