Playing the edge: The difference between discomfort and pain

“You might experience a moment of discomfort,” the nurse remarked, the edges of her mouth arching up in what could be construed as a sympathetic smile – if you’re being generous here. Discomfort. Right, I thought. Discomfort is a pin-prick. This is freaking pain!

Despite my initial resistance, I decided to look away from the needle that was aiming for my seemingly non-existent vein. I began to practice the deep breathing I’d been teaching the first and second graders I had worked with the year before. Deep belly breaths, I reminded myself in my best soothing voice, Blow your tummy up like a balloon… I focused on not anticipating the experience, but being present with my breath. I observed the thoughts that I was having and, having had much practice at this sort of thing, detached myself from them.

I can’t say that I “didn’t even notice it going in!” in some cheerful tone, but I can say that nurse’s digging around in the recesses of my veins to find blood wasn’t all that terrible. Somewhere between a bubble bath and a root canal.

This was a vast improvement from my previous experiences of having blood drawn, in which scenarios I would have woefully lamented about the agony that I endured. In this case, however, my experience was one of discomfort rather than pain.

You might think that the difference between discomfort and pain is a matter of degree. And in one sense it is. But the difference between discomfort and pain is more nuanced that that. It’s marked by a narrow edge, one that – if we can find it – opens up a world of opportunity.

You see, while pain leaves us aching and stagnant, discomfort is the birthplace of growth.

Think of the last time that you did something you felt really amazing about. Maybe you produced a stellar presentation. Or finally told him that you love him. Or ran faster than you ever thought you could.

In the moment right before you made that step, I’m willing to bet there was a moment of discomfort. A moment in which you recognized that you were coming up against the bounds of what you always thought you could do, and one when you decided that that you were going to allow yourself to feel the fear, the doubt, the exhilaration. You felt it all and did it anyway.

Discomfort tells us that we’re pushing up against our limits, that we’re stretching ourselves just beyond.

Pain tells us that we’ve gone too far. Pain – dirty pain, especially – let us know that we’ve not just overstepped our comfort zone, but taken a flying leap out of it. Pain’s not always bad, of course, but it can often lead us to somberly head back to safety, head down and tails between our legs. Pain is too much, too quick.

Yoga has a fantastic word for this precipice between pain and discomfort – the edge. The edge is the place in between discomfort and pain, the place where our physical limitations become apparent.

Playing the edge means taking yourself to that point and exploring what’s there. Many of us live our lives either staying far away from the edge as possible or nose-diving over it. But developing a more gentle, but firm awareness of our boundaries allows us to build confidence in the presence of safety. The goal is to stretch ourselves, not break ourselves.

Our edges are each going to be different, but pushing ourselves in new ways in universally liberating. So don’t resist discomfort, embrace it.

Where is your edge? How have you witnessed the difference between pain and discomfort?