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I hope this email inspires you to pause. The time we lay dormant is just as important as when we bloom. Nature knows that—you don’t see her trying to bloom all year round.

Hello, 

Have you ever pondered the cost of our comfortable and convenient lives?  I’m not talking about the environmental cost of our consumption, but rather the emotional and physical downsides of living a life that is a tad too cushy.

Discomfort comes with benefits. 
Taking a break during a mindful walking activity that was more challenging than what I usually schedule into my Inside Time Outside programs. 
When I looked at the participant list for for a recent Inside Time Outside retreat I realised I had a group of women I knew would forgive me if I pushed them too far.

There’s a site perched high on a rugged hill that is a perfect gathering place, but isn’t usually suitable because of how challenging the climb is. 

But these were all repeat participants I felt would be able and (I hoped) willing, so I incorporated a silent, shoes optional, mindful walk up a rocky snake-infested hill through thick bushland into the program :-)

Thankfully the women embraced the challenging climb (despite there being fear of heights and snakes within the group), but when we reached the top there was even more discomfort. We were set upon by dozens of march flies (known more commonly as horse flies in other parts of the world) and they stayed with us all day. I have never seen so many. They buzzed around our faces relentlessly. One woman draped a shawl over her head, another tried painting her face and arms with mud in an attempt to deter them.

The women appeared hot and tired, were being hassled by march flies, and some were worried about how they would get back down the steep slope. But despite the discomfort, our time was magical.

Being comfortable with being uncomfortable is an integral part of nature connection. Natural environments aren't always pleasant. They are unpredictable and sometimes even frightening. That's part of the appeal of time in nature.

Discomfort stretches our resilience and adaptability muscles. It drags us into the present moment, and when the irritation gets too great, allows us to take our mindfulness practice a step further by providing an opportunity to be okay with the discomfort. To sit with it and not fear it. 
Unexpected forest 'bathing'literally. Photo by Grace from @whitburnwhispers

The discomfort theme continued the following weekend. We sat under a large tarp as it unexpectedly drizzled. It was delightful. But then the lightning started and the rain got heavier. Being in the midst of a forest during a lightning storm is not something I was comfortable with. So we walked outin the rain! By the time we got back to basecamp everyone was drenched. But there was not one complaint. It was as though the women were energised by the rain and all I saw was pure joy.

Many of the women had even packed a change of clothes based on their experience at previous retreats. I love that! It reminds me of how a mum might pack a change of clothes for a child’s messy playdate. Messy playdates for women—that’s what we need more of!

Physiological resilience—the ability to cope mentally or emotionally with a crisis or to return to pre-crisis status quickly—is especially important at the moment. Resilience helps us avoid stress-induced mental health disorders such as depression, anxiety and post-traumatic stress disorder.

Expecting our lives, and that of our children, to always be comfortable is naive. We need to be able to cope with stress and uncertainty. 


I was caught in floodwaters a few months back as the nearby town of Broke went under. Everyone talks about the risks of driving through floodwaters, but what they don't talk about is that in a flash flood, the rapid inundation of low-lying areas, you may find yourself in a situation where staying put, or turning around, isn’t an option. I had no choice but to keep on driving through fast-moving water up to the base of the doors not knowing how quickly it was going to rise further. I had my daughter Liv in the car and didn’t cope with the stress of the situation very well. My head was thumping and I could feel my blood pressure skyrocket. My panicking didn't help, and if things had gotten any worse, I imagine it may have hindered our ability to get out of the situation.

Thankfully we made it home safely and I learned that I need to practice staying calm in stressful situations. 

We need to step away from our cushy lifestyles more often. Our relentless quest for endless comfort isn't doing us any favours. In the process of becoming domesticated, did we perhaps let go of too much of our wildness? Have we insulated ourselves from nature to the extent that we’re missing out on moments that are not only beneficial, but necessary for our wellbeing? 

Preparing to step into the wilds at a recent inside Time Outside Retreat. 
So this dark moon, perhaps you could ponder your ability to tolerate discomfort. How resilient are you to change? Or to stressful situations? Are you able to thrive despite uncertainty?

Your homework this month is to head out into the wilds and practice being comfortable being uncomfortable. Walk on gravel barefoot, run in the rain, traverse a precarious-looking log, or plunge into ice-cold wild water. Go on, I dare you. I bet you won’t regret it. You may while in the moment. But afterward, that’s when the discomfort becomes worth it. 

And I appreciate I probably haven’t done a very good job selling my retreats by highlighting how uncomfortable they are, but for those I’ve not deterred, links to upcoming retreats are below.

Wishing you a month scattered with comfortable discomfort, 
Tricia x
Register for the overnight Wildly Well Women's Retreat
Book a one-day Inside Time Outside Retreat
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I acknowledge the Wonnarua people—the Traditional Custodians of the land on which I live and write. I recognise their ongoing connection to this land and its stories, and pay my respects to their Elders, past, present and emerging.

Copyright © 2022 Tricia D. Walker, All rights reserved.


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