Be Content

Warning: this is a messy post. I have been trying to write it for six months, and it is not coming together. In the spirit of the purpose of this blog, here are my imperfect thoughts on being content.

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Called to be Content

At a retreat with a group of coworkers over the summer, two colleagues shared they felt I am being called to be content, to let go, and in my words, to stop trying so hard. I’ve wrestled with this since that day, and I am beyond frustrated with the idea of being content. My understanding of contentedness is a feeling of peace with our circumstances, not longing for more, but loving and being grateful for what we have currently.

That description is the opposite of everything inside me right now. The perfectionism in me wants to give my best, strive for 100% in everything I do, and never quit. My work in every area of life never feels done, because I always see opportunities for improvement. This applies to parenting, relationships, career, everything. I cannot think of an area of my life where I am content with what I've done, or where I am.

I am particularly frustrated with areas of my life that I have been working on for years. Counseling, leaning in to friends and family, being honest, showing up authentically, being vulnerable and feeling crushed by it and being vulnerable again. I'm trying, and yet contentment feels farther away than ever before.

A quote often on my mind lately is from The Greatest Showman, a story based on taking risk to live our dreams: "Comfort is the enemy of progress." What if comfort and contentment are the same thing? What if being content means standing still instead of moving in a direction? I don't stand or sit still, it's not in my nature. I don't need to be moving forward always. Every time I have taken a step back in life, it has allowed me to propel forward in a way I could not have planned. I would rather be moving in some direction than feeling stuck.

This movement also causes me to miss out on life. The little things. The important things. The greatest gift I've received over the last 18 months is time. Time was forced on me and I had to decide how to use it. I chose to lean into people in a way I had never done. I chose to spend more time with my amazing daughters. I chose to push myself into authentic relationships despite my inexperience and discomfort. I chose to be real in most of my conversations. I am building new emotional and spiritual muscles, and am hopefully showing up in life in a way that is more closely aligned with my stated values. But it’s never enough. I can’t stop trying. I can’t be still. I can’t pause, reflect, drink a glass of wine, and be content with this work.

Fueled by Fear

My disdain for contentedness probably stems from fear. I am likely afraid of crossing the line from content to complacency. That's a blurry line for me. For example, when I work out consistently throughout the week, I am more likely to workout more often. If I miss a few workouts, I get complacent, and settle for a television show instead of a treadmill. Before I know it, a week goes by and I have completely missed my workouts. I fear I’m on the path to complacency.

This might sound extreme, but this is how my perfectionist mind works. Missing one workout, letting up on my kids for one day, or saying "no" to one happy hour invitation from a friend all cause me to worry that I'm taking my eye off what's important.

I recently listened to a dear friend speak at an event, and she talked about our struggle with the life we are living, versus the life we thought we should be living, or perhaps thought we were meant to live. I realized this may be part of the issue for those us who are struggling with contentedness. Are we struggling because we fear that accepting our lives as-is means giving up on our dreams? Giving up on a vision we had for our lives at some point?

The last blog post I shared was about perspective, and I reflected on the challenge of climbing a mountain, and the rewarding feeling of reaching the top. I was content in that moment. As I reflected on that feeling of contentment in the context of my current struggle, I realize it was not reaching the top that brought peace. It was the people around me. Connection is not about standing still. It is about appreciating every step. It was in the journey where I found contentment, not in the destination.

Finding Peace

I don’t have answers, or even suggestions, for anyone sharing my struggle. All I have are questions for us to ponder as we navigate finding peace through the struggle with being content.

Am I letting fear lead my life? We know this is disastrous. Fear leads to a life filled with holding back, not being known, not fully living, and not allowing ourselves to reach our God-given potential. “There is no fear in love: true love has no room for fear, because where fear is, there is pain; and he who is not free from fear is not complete in love.” 1 John 4:18 (BBE). This verse speaks to the depth at which fear holds us hostage from loving and living, and leads to pain and destruction. For me, the fear of becoming complacent is likely holding me back from feeling content. I am called to break out of fear and lean into love and life.

What is the vision I have for my life? At some point, we all had a picture of what our lives might look like when we grow up. That picture might have included a corner office, 2.4 children, tropical vacations, a white picket fence, or a myriad of other materials things. What we might be learning as we age with wisdom is that our vision for life might need to focus on the intangible things. Love. Relationships. Faith. Joy. Peace. Authenticity. Laughter. Smiles. How are we measuring the meaning of our lives? If we’re still measuring it against the 22-year-old vision of what we thought it was supposed to look like, I’m not sure whether being content is possible. Will our vision for our lives change if we are measuring it by moments of joy?

Am I willing to be still? When I think about the moments of my childhood that stand out, many of the best ones are the small moments at home with my parents and sister and brother. Those moments happened because my mom is the best at being present and loving people first. Opportunities to love and serve others happen when we build space into our lives, not when we create schedules for our days. I am challenged to leave margin in my weeks. I often feel life is too short to “waste” moments doing “nothing.” For those of us who love experiences and time with people, I wonder how our lives might be richer if we practice stillness more often? Perhaps the time to reflect might fuel gratitude for what we have, rather than longing for what is missing. A heart of gratitude fuels love, overcomes fear, and creates the path to a content soul.

Processing our lives with questions is hard. It might lead to tougher questions, and even more brutal answers. Those answers might stir our hearts. That stirring might lead to action. That action might require big risk. This is where life turns into living. When we are willing to live at the edge where fear is in the ravine below us and radical love is at the top of the mountain in front of us. Where discomfort is under our feet, contentedness is in our hearts, and opportunities are in our hands.