Leaning Into Discomfort

This is not a yardsale. This is our mold prevention routine. 

Oct 3, 2024

As a part of my first coaching certification program I was required to take a class called “Leaning Into Discomfort”. The focus was on learning to sit with and explore uncomfortable topics with clients. Sometimes the goal is to try to work toward a different future- a way out of the discomfort. Sometimes it is to just sit in the discomfort of what is because not everything has a solution. I loved the class and certainly learned a lot. Looking back, I realize now that it was enjoyable because we were talking about being with other people’s discomfort, not my own.

Fast forward a few years to the days leading up to the big move to Nicaragua. I decided to listen to a book called Comfort Crisis by Michael Easter. It has been on my list for a while, and I knew I was about to potentially head into some uncomfortable moments while moving to a foreign country.

Some of the discomforts have come in the form of not having a salad spinner (I broke down and paid the exorbitant amazon shipping costs to relieve this one), or living with an impressively biodiverse front yard that deeply embodies the “mi casa es su casa” mentality (or perhaps more in the order of “su casa es mi casa”). Others include sleeping without A/C on warm nights in a bed that’s not all that comfortable, consistently giving and receiving gross sweaty hugs, and finding the occasional scorpion in the bed, kitchen, shower…just to name a few.

I find myself wanting to solve these issues. As humans we tend to move toward comfort. As a privileged American, I don’t only have a well-trodden path towards comfort, I had an unidetified expectation of comfort. When there is a situation, I don’t know, say- being hot and irritable while cooking in the evening, or sharing the house with countless frogs- I seek solutions.

Unfortunately, in this situation, the solution to one begets the other. To open the door in the evening while cooking to cool and ventilate the house, invites all of the light-loving frogs and bugs in to join us for the feast. When I asked our housekeepers if we could pay to install screens, they laughed and said there is no way to have screens with our style of doors. When I asked the owner, she sent me a link to those lovely magnetic screens that could be here in just a couple of weeks if we order from Amazon. I kindly mentioned that I think all the things would still crawl in under those and her response was “Probably.”

In the book, Easter takes us on an adventure of his own personal misogi, which is a Japanese challenge undertaken for the purpose of pushing one to their limits and forcing one to confront fears, doubts and weaknesses. I think it’s fair to say that we can check, check, double check those boxes.

What may surprise you though is that amidst the omnipresent discomforts of heat, days of rain, and ensuring increase in mold, uncomfortable beds and insufficient internet by which to work (first world problem, I know, I know), there has been so much joy in living here. The connection we get to have with nature, while maybe more intimate than we bargained for at times, is nourishing on such a deep level. The connection we get to have with each other and ourselves and other people thanks to the dramatic slow down in our activity level is nourishing in unfamiliar ways. I have described it to many as a deep exhale and that is exactly how it feels, every day. We regularly get to watch howler monkeys climb through the trees in front of our house and listen to the myriad of birds that call this farm home. We watch stunning sunsets over the ocean every night. We’ve stood in awe admiring countless varieties of caterpillars and butterflies and frogs the size of my head. We’ve watched the farm dogs, goats and cats go about their business completely unencumbered. It’s brought us so much laughter and joy to be amidst these wild things and it's allowed more of our own true wildness to come forward.

There is a rich authenticity that comes with living in a way that can’t be padded for our constant enjoyment. Sometimes that authenticity isn’t bright and shiny, but most of the time, its connecting us more deeply to ourselves and our surroundings in ways that we never have before for such a sustained amount of time.

When the padding is stripped away and only reality remains, the questions we ask ourselves and the ways in which we move through the world start to change. The problems we try to solve begin to morph. We learn where the juice is really worth the squeeze and where, acceptance and surrender are actually the most rewarding of all the options.

There have been other discomforts as well. Stepping away from 20 years of an established community of people we love into a land full of strangers has had its own squirmy moments. Moments of boredom, of loneliness, hich in turn breed opportunities to reach out and connect with new friends or create art and explore in ways that we otherwise wouldn’t have taken the time for.  Fortunately, by now, we’ve made some friends and have established a bit of a routine, but it’s clear that we have barely scratched the surface in this department.

We have had to get comfortable with having a housekeeper in our home 5 days per week. Yomar is here cleaning up after us and the jungle creatures before we are even stirring in the morning. She is amazing and has been a gift in every way. She does our laundry, teaches us how to live properly to minimize bugs in our house and how often to sun our belongings to reduce mold. She helps me practice my Spanish with incredible patience, tells me where I can buy the things we need, reminds me when it’s time to refill our propane tank and even cooks for us a few days a week.

She and her husband Juan, who takes care of our pool and pretty much any other maintenance concern we could possibly come up with, live just down the road from us on the farm. They live in the maid’s quarters of one of the farm owner’s homes. Most of the quarters include one bedroom and a garage/ shed that has a sink and stove in it. They share that space with their 18 month old son, Tiago, who they trade back and forth throughout the day as they work depending on who is doing what. They are usually here for a few hours in the morning and then she’ll pop back over again a time or two in the afternoon to tidy up a few loose ends or fold some dry clothes. The cost of their time and labor is included in our rent, so I can’t be sure what they make in a day, but the going rate in this area is between $15-$20/ day.  

More than once, I have felt great discomfort having Yomar clean up after us while juggling her toddler, as I sit and meditate or play with Trace, or write this blog post. And yet, I haven’t met an expat that doesn’t have a housekeeper at least a few days per week.  

The word “ubuntu” comes to mind when I think about this native/ expat dynamic. Ubuntu is an African word that can be translated as “I am because we are.” Said another way, as human beings, our humanity, our personhood—are fostered in relation to other people.

Would we love living here if we didn’t have someone cleaning the mess nature made day by day? Would I still love it if I was mopping the floor daily or cleaning out the leaves and vacuuming the bottom of the pool every day? Not likely. Yomar spends between 4-6 hours at our house each day and Juan at least another hour. I, as my expat self, am deeply enjoying my time in Nicaragua because of the services of another person who needs me to be here so she can have housing and earn a decent wage. What she makes in a day, making my life exponentially more enjoyable, I can drop on Whole Foods sushi for lunch in a pinch without a second thought. That makes me uncomfortable.

I love it here because she is here. And I also, don’t always love having someone in my space. I long for the days of having my house to myself and not being dropped in on unannounced when she comes back to finish her work (she is stealth and often shocks me because I didn’t hear her coming!).

I yearn to walk barefoot without thinking about scorpions and to sleep without the sound of frogs blaring out my window. And yet there is a part of me that loves the deepened awareness of my surroundings that vanishes when the comfort creeps back in.  

I love that driving here is like playing Mario Cart. I can’t take my eyes off the road for a second because I might slip on a banana peel (literally and figuratively) or run into a horse.

Observe: Random horse frolicking through the street. What you don't see is the 7ish year old boy who rode bareback to come retrieve this horse a few minutes later. 

I love that I live in tank tops and flip flops at all times and a little less heat would be welcome from time to time.

I love the slow flow and I get bored because of it.

I love the abundant fresh food here and I miss some of the convenience foods we were accustomed to.

I love living in the tranquility of the jungle and we are constantly discovering new creatures that live around us and wish there were just a few less of them sometimes.

Today's discovery.

I love that the rain brings a break from the heat of the sun and that the sun brings a break from the dampness of our sheets, shoes and literally everything else that comes with the rain.

I am missing fall colors and cooler nights spent with dear friends at home and I am so happy to be here in my flip flops enjoying new company.

A wise photography-loving friend once told me- the beauty is in the contrast. And so it is.

Needless to say, I have been leaning into the discomfort and learning to walk the line of when to move toward more comfort and when it’s time to practice acceptance and surrender. And while the discomfort of that tight rope walk has been huge in its own right, it has also been very, very rewarding.

As it turns out, at least lately, there is more joy in the surrender than in the resistance. I think I can confidently say that we have made our peace with the bulk of the discomforts, thanks, in no small, part to the sympathetic advice from fellow expat friends. It feels good to laugh in the face of my own high standards!!