Letter To Discomfort

Dear Discomfort,

I wish you had a different name. A name that would be less.... uncomfortable. Saying your name 'Discomfort' brings this queezy-squeemish-mugh UNCOMFORTABLE feeling in me. One that pains on my heart. Like a rock that just SITS there. Taking space. Adding weight. Bothersome. Irritating. BUMMERsome. 

Oh, Discomfort. You come and go, but these days. Or... TODAY - you've come and stayed. For a long while. You've reminded me places where I have yet to grow. Places where I'm stuck in. Places where I feel you so heavy on my chest, that my inner child goes running to cry her face in the bed's down comforter. And that comforter was comfortable, hence its name... but only for a little while. Once I rose from it... there you were again. Reminding me of the mountain I am climbing while being deeply afraid of heights. 

Oh, Discomfort. You are an important one, aren't you? We credit Fear often, but you are like the subtle tell-sign that Fear follows. You are the guideline, the guide, the leader taking me to a path of new growth, changes, learnings, lessons... for wisdom to drop in, one must first embrace YOU dear Discomfort. And today, I DO embrace you. I cherish you. I hold you close to me knowing that you are a better armor than the stronger of metals. You're a shield even in your invisible shell. You're a positive even though I don't bother telling you that because most of the time you are just really really UNCOMFORTABLE.

So what do I say to you on a day that we've been on each other's throat? 
I say thank you. And I say it again. And again. Until you feel some of that heavy-feeling of DISCOMFORT. 

With many thanks...

Me.