In full transparency and in alignment with the theme of self-expression that informs “Things I Want to Say” , I must admit that editing this post has been a struggle. My original draft started to feel flat and meaningless amidst ongoing policy changes. As a Kenyan public health researcher and doctoral candidate based in the US, I acknowledge that it is a less than ideal time for my field right now. My main focus has been on staying grounded and near to myself. Initially, my vision for this two-part series was to have part 1 focus on the exterior: how my position and place in society shapes my self-concept and drives my tussle with worthiness, and then part 2 would focus on how my interior world interacts with and informs my response to the exterior.
At the time of drafting the two-part series, I felt that both parts were important because while I cannot control the exterior, I have full control over my interior. Right now though, I don’t feel like I have much control over anything. The exterior feels strong and relentless, and I, along with others in my field, feel the vulnerability of our circumstances acutely. I have wanted to honor this feeling, rather than ignoring it to focus on what might be within my control. I know it is possible, and necessary, to do both, but like many raised in religious contexts I have a strong track-record of by-passing the ‘negative’ feelings. So when the “negative” feelings came up this time around, I tried to be more mindful, slow down and lean into them.
In doing so, I have been reciting this daily prayer to keep me intact and functioning:
As I allow myself to feel all my feelings, help me to keep dreaming beyond the limits of my present circumstance.
All of that to say, I am sharing this post less from a place of conviction, and more from a place of discipline and commitment. This feels vulnerable; like I am stepping into a new space with my writing. I am trying to remain open and curious as I proceed tentatively.
Historically, letting things be easy has not come naturally to me. My mind has a habit of scanning all possibilities in a scenario, identifying the most harrowing option, and preparing myself for it, leaving my nervous system an absolute wreck in the process. It has taken breathwork, meditation, therapy, spiritual direction, and a whole lot of tears for me to finally start identifying and choosing the easy option. In Part 1 of this series, I focused on how my place and positionality drives my tussle with worthiness, and what letting things be easy can look like in spite of everything beyond me. In this post, I’m looking within a little bit more, and exploring how my inner world has interacted with and responded to the exterior, ultimately shaping who I am.
While some of what has shaped me was not by choice or within my control, I have had to take accountability for the interior in order to let things be a little easier. When I say “take accountability for” I mean looking within to acknowledge, learn, understand and reframe. To the best of my knowledge - as informed by my lived experience - taking accountability is a lifelong and cyclical process. Acknowledgement inspires learning, learning deepens understanding, understanding allows for reframing, which in turn leads to new acknowledgements.
In trying to let things be easy, there are two deeply ingrained beliefs that I am working towards reframing: the hard path is the right path, and the hard path is the meaningful path.
The hard path is the right path
I was raised to believe that self-sacrifice (or mortification), was necessary to ensure a righteous life. Mortification is defined as “voluntary actions by which we gradually “put to death” all of our vices, sinful habits, and the self-centered tendencies that lurk beneath them”. To be sure, I cannot speak to the inherent goodness or badness of this practice. My call does not lie in broadly critiquing the nature and essence of spiritual practices. I am more focused on their impact on my development than I am on their intent.
Being raised with these beliefs translated to an impressive level of discipline that has carried me through multiple degrees, and continues to sustain me professionally. It also inculcated a disconnection from my body. Losing touch with your needs, wants and desires comes quite naturally when you’re accustomed to abandoning yourself in pursuit of that which is right and good.
This self-abandonment has consequences. You start viewing anything that is easy with condescension and suspicion. You perceive that your value lies in how much you’re able to give and how well you’re able to make do without. You become naturally inclined to choose the harder path. All of this is happening in your subconscious so you don’t realize it until it you burn out and are forced to explore a new way of being, and new spaces to be.
I am learning that every hard thing will not ultimately contribute to my formation as a “good” person. I am altogether questioning the concept of being a “good” person. I am just a person. I have good and bad in me, and it is my responsibility to nurture the good and manage the bad. I do not need to prove my goodness by way of self-sacrifice or self-deprecation. There are plenty of hurdles and troubles in this life, there is no need to add on to them by consistently choosing the hard path.
The hard path is the meaningful path
There is a satisfaction that comes with the hard path. A feeling of accomplishment. My proclivity to find meaning on the hard path was nurtured through my academic journey. I was an academic in the making from a young age. I loved reading and would often read a book a day during the school holidays. The education system I grew up in emphasized academic excellence over other creative or physical pursuits. Studying for many hours was glorified, and rewarded. I thrived in that context. Reading and writing was enjoyable for me; I didn’t mind having to do it for hours on end. It comes as no surprise that the more I advanced through my education, the more I pushed myself to sustain my performance. And more alarmingly, the more cemented my identity became in my performance.
This subconsciously led me to seek out more challenging paths. If doing well on the hard path was a big part of my identity and how I made meaning of my life, then I had to keep choosing the hard path. I was on a dissertation coaching call recently and the coach gently berated us on this very tendency. She explained how doing the simple thing can sometimes feel basic for the academic, who might prefer to work harder to feel like they earned their results. How it can feel like a badge of honor to be the most hardworking or disciplined. How choosing ease can feel uncomfortable and even boring because it requires rethinking what a successful and meaningful life looks like. This has been a difficult truth for me to grapple with: that the meaning I place in choosing the hard path might have driven me to make some things unnecessarily difficult; that I accrued pleasure from feeling like the most hard working, most disciplined and most dedicated.
As I reframe these beliefs, I think about the choices that they have influenced over the years, in my career and relationships to be specific. It’s interesting to sit with these choices and view them with a new awareness - not in the form of scrutiny, but in a beholding. The more I reframe, the more I acknowledge. The more I acknowledge, the more I learn. The more I learn, the more I understand. I understand my choices and the life they have resulted in so much better now. And in this newfound understanding, I feel pride, actually. I’m proud of what I’ve created and who I’ve become in the process.
Unsustainable as the hard path is, the lessons persist, and I carry those with me, even as I go about letting things be easy. How to be gentle with myself on a rough day. How to discern the difference between a necessary hard thing, and an unnecessary hard thing. How to kindly and respectfully say no. When to dig my heels in and meet a deadline. How to pace myself to avoid burning out. How to take care of myself when I am burnt out. Who to journey with on whatever path I choose next.
I am extremely grateful for these lessons because they are empowering me to let things be easy as I navigate the remaining stretches of some hard paths.
I want to close with an acknowledgement that one’s mental, physical, emotional and financial health is critical to contextualize and implement the “let things be easy” mindset. For instance, as someone who lives with anxiety, I know that brain chemistry plays a huge role in my ability to discern when I’m making a thing harder than it needs to be. Letting things be easy in this regard has looked like engaging my mental health support systems to help me reframe accordingly.
Reflective Questions
In what ways might you be making things harder than they need to be?
What meaning do you derive from choosing the harder path?
What tendencies or beliefs do you need to acknowledge, understand and reframe as you go about letting things be easy?
Affirmations
Ease does not invalidate my growth.
Ease helps me grow without breaking myself in the process.
Choosing ease does not mean avoiding hard work.
Choosing ease means grounding myself in the facts and being mindful of the narratives I’m telling myself about what I’m going through.
Choosing ease means setting boundaries with myself.
Choosing ease means not indulging in suffering.
Resources
For those reframing their relationship with the Divine as they go about letting things be easy: Black Liturgies and Embodied Spirituality
For those reframing their relationship with their academic or professional accomplishments as they go about letting things be easy: Qual Scholars and I do not dream of labor.
Kendrick’s album is still on repeat - this song felt resonant with the post.