I recently returned from a trip to see family for the holidays. Though I didn’t stop thinking about my “regular” life, I did turn the volume down on the repeating soundtrack of my thoughts about it.

From a distance, the difficulties and challenges I face in my regular life seemed less difficult and challenging.

Then I stepped off the plane, got in the car and drove home. And I felt those weaknesses, insecurities and burdens suddenly back in my arms, and I felt myself holding them close.

Why is it that we harbor a tenderness and loyalty to our problems? Whether those problems are external, internal, or a mix of both, they become familiar companions to us. But they aren’t the kind of companion that will lift us up, spur us on, or push us out of our comfort zones.

No, they’re the kind of companion that will hold us back. They’ll tell us “You’re not ready yet.” They’ll tell us, “Don’t share this with anyone. They won’t understand.” They’ll tell us, “This is who you are – don’t try to be someone else.”

It’s easy to dwell on our problems. But that only makes them grow. Over time, the instinctual sense that something is wrong–an instinct meant to spur us to action–it dulls.

It’s harder to work through our problems.

Working through our problems requires us to be honest, with ourselves and with others close to us. Growth is rarely seamless and smooth; we might make mistakes or hurt people while learning to be honest to the new person we’re becoming.

Working through our problems takes courage. It requires us to overcome our fears, letting go of our current self to reach for a self that doesn’t exist yet. Because it is in the reaching that we will become that new self.

What problem are you holding close right now? What’s the next step in working through it? 

Have you ever been overwhelmed and felt a sense of panic? What did you do?

One summer when I was in high school, I chose the triathlete concentration at the summer camp I attended. Running? That was my jam. Biking? I could manage just fine. Swimming? I’d been proficient back when I was younger and taking lessons, but I’d gotten rusty over the years. You could say that my confidence was lacking.

The big event was a challenge race that took place all over camp, including entering the lake on one side of camp and swimming with our stuff in black plastic trash bags to another point, where we’d get out and continue the course. I can’t remember how far it actually was, but to me, it felt like a significant distance.

Once we started, there was no going back. The group was moving forward, and if I didn’t keep up, I’d be stuck treading water in the lake. If I stopped swimming, it wouldn’t make the ordeal end any quicker. In fact, it would take longer. There was a low-level of panic rushing through my veins, but somehow I kept going and made it.

Sometimes we’re thrown into the deep end (or maybe you jumped in yourself) and it can feel like the waves are knocking you back and forth. You might have a destination toward which you’re headed, and you can see it far away in the distance. But to get there, you have to swim.

Here’s some tips for staying afloat and moving forward:

1. Quell the panic. It’s not helpful to freak out or thrash around. It’s a waste of precious energy, and will only make you swallow water and hyperventilate. Do whatever you can do stop that urge to give into the despair and helplessness.
2. Relax. Breathe slowly. Focus on one stroke at a time, the next tangible thing you can do to move closer to your goal.
3. Keep looking up to see where you’re headed. It’s important not to get off course, and keeping your eyes on the destination will help you remember why you’re swimming in the first place. If it’s helpful, you can also look back occasionally to see how far you’ve come already. It can give you confidence to cover the distance ahead.

Don’t worry about how fast you’re going, or how natural your form is. The goal is to keep going and not give up. The goal is to finish what you started and develop confidence in your ability to overcome challenges.