by Irene Glasse

There are reasons for the fear. Since childhood, I’ve experienced something called “REM Sleep Behavior Disorder” or “REM Intrusion.” The short description of this condition is that my brain sometimes fails the gear shift between sleeping and waking. When I have a bad dream, if the gear shift fails, my body wakes up while my mind is still dreaming. I open my eyes, and the dream is overlaid on the reality before me.

That would be fine if I were dreaming about… say… mermaids or unicorns. But in those moments, I’m not. The gear shift failure mostly occurs during nightmares.

As an adult, I understand why this happens, and I’m able to talk myself down once my brain fully wakes up and the dream fades. But as a child?

Bad things happened in the dark. And no one was able to help me, or to explain. The fear is rooted deeply into my early years.

And, given that, I still place myself outside in the darkness.

You see, discomfort and danger are not the same thing. And there’s a good deal to be said for sitting with discomfort in a safe place. I can be utterly terrified, startling at small sounds, with my heart pounding, and also know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am, in fact, quite safe. These spaces of discomfort allow me to continue working on the trigger and all the emotions and behaviors attached to it within a safe container.

So, I head out into the forest, into the darkness, pretty regularly. I go deliberately in order to learn to dance more gracefully with my fear.

If you’re doing anything worthwhile in your spiritual practice, you’re going to come up against your edges. You’ll attend a ritual that brings up emotions you’re not expecting, you’ll read a book that pushes your buttons, you’ll go on a journey that feels unpleasant to you, or you’ll experience any number of other possibilities that suddenly bring you face to face with your own discomfort.

When that happens, it can be tempting to shut the whole thing down. We’ve gotten so used to being comfortable that we’ve forgotten the very real wisdom and power that comes from navigating our edges. The Path of Ordeal is a real one — one of the most profound spiritual experiences I ever had was at the very end of the Crucible, the “final” of Marine Corps Boot Camp back in the 90s. I would not have had that experience without the sleep and food deprivation or forced marches. Navigating discomfort — going through my own resistance — revealed something wholly new to me. Something that continues to inform and support my spiritual practice to this very day.

So, are you in danger? Or are you in discomfort?

If you know that you can step out, can return to your campsite, can raise a hand and someone will help you, can choose to revoke consent, can leave a gathering and go home? You’re not in danger. You’re uncomfortable. And sometimes, that’s more than enough reason to do any of the aforementioned actions. We’re not always up for sitting with our edges. When that’s the case, use your self-awareness to decide what’s right for you. Particularly in the space of shared ritual and ceremonial experiences, you really can just bail. The policy of consent applies to rituals, and it can be revoked by any participant at any time.*

But, make sure that’s what will actually serve you. Encountering our edges usually makes us want to quit. The thing is, if you lean into your discomfort rather than seek to escape it, there are some sparks in that darkness worth seeing. The next time you find yourself navigating your edges, here are some questions to consider:

• What experiences or memories is this connecting with?
• What emotions are present right now? (Literally name them — “discomfort” is usually covering a few others.)
• What is this experience teaching me about myself? What am I learning right now?
• Why do I want to quit? How do I feel about that reason?
• What do I think the goal of this experience is? What theories do I have about the design choices?

If I stopped every time I was afraid or uncomfortable, I simply wouldn’t go anywhere. Every single worthwhile spiritual experience in my life has included challenge. Indeed, my mechanism for determining where I’m supposed to go next on my personal spiritual path is to choose the option that scares me a little. The very best candy, as it turns out, is just outside your comfort zone.

The next time you find yourself ready to throw in the towel, look more deeply. Are you in danger? Or are you in discomfort? And, what response to this challenge will serve you best?

*If you are in a situation where consent cannot be revoked, or is not respected/fully complied with when it is revoked, get out using any means necessary.

Irene can be found at https://glassewitchcottage.com/.