I met a man this afternoon, his face young, his beard salted with age. He spoke of deciding at 50 to stop being comfortable. The vitality of that decision carried him, light and playful, through the space he inhabited. Appreciation for his choice rose to my lips, while his partner, silent and present, listened beside him.

Embracing discomfort as our growing edge takes us into new terrain and throws us into lively new elements, gives life the chance to grab us fully, as it longs to do. Dropping the pretense of safety and correctness shakes us down to what’s real. And real sure ain’t what dominant culture and accepted methods define them to be. Life’s way too creative for that. Invite the mystery…

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