What if the discomfort you’ve been carrying isn’t a sign of weakness, but a kind of strength training? Join me this month as I explore how staying with what’s hard can quietly change us.
Sometimes healing doesn’t arrive in grand breakthroughs, but in the quiet moments when we choose to stay present with something uncomfortable.
This reflection began in my chiropractor’s office, but it led me to something deeper: a quiet question—what if the discomfort I’ve been enduring is actually a form of strength training.
Enduring Discomfort: A Muscular Act of Trust
Lately, I’ve been thinking about discomfort—the kind that comes in small, precise doses. Like the ones I experience in the chiropractor’s office.
Greg, my chiropractor, once said something that stayed with me:
“You’ve got to be able to endure a little discomfort for this to work.”
It wasn’t said unkindly. In fact, it felt like an invitation to collaborate—with my body, with the treatment, and maybe even with something deeper.
The adjustments aren’t always comfortable. There’s pressure, resistance, and sometimes a quick jolt of something unfamiliar. Occasionally, Greg uses a bit of verbal distraction right beforehand—a question, a comment, or a gentle shift of attention. Over time, I’ve come to realize: this isn’t just about muscles and joints.
It’s about training the nervous system to stay—even when it instinctively wants to bolt.
Neuroscience tells us there’s a region of the brain—the anterior midcingulate cortex—that lights up when we work to stay present in the midst of discomfort. It’s involved in decision-making, emotional regulation, and pain tolerance.
We may not see this part of our brain on any daily scan, but we feel its presence when we choose not to flee, when we pause and anchor ourselves instead.
And that’s when it occurred to me:
What discomfort have I been enduring—without even realizing it was strength training?
Whether it’s a long night holding the weight of someone else’s emotions, or quietly carrying our own pain without numbing it—each time we stay with discomfort, we’re building something.
Endurance. Trust.
The emotional muscle that quietly says, “I can do hard things, even if no one sees me doing them.”
There’s something deeply powerful about that.
Whether in the chiropractor’s office or in the middle of a caregiving moment, we are practicing the art of enduring what might be uncomfortable—not by escaping, but by staying present with courage.
And each time we do, I wonder if that part of our brain grows a little stronger.
Or maybe simply, our heart.
Breathing Space:
Before moving on with your day, take a moment to pause.
Breathe in gently.
Breathe out slowly.
When you’re ready, ask yourself:
Where in my life have I stayed with something hard—and what kind of strength might I be building without even realizing it?
If it feels right, let your thoughts spill onto a page.
No pressure. No perfect answers.
Just a quiet honoring of the strength you’ve been carrying all along.