This week, I found myself on the old and familiar path of avoidance.

Ironically, it started while working on a talk about negativity bias—our brain’s default toward fear and protection when faced with uncertainty. I likened it to those well-worn forest paths—familiar, fast, and built for survival.

One of my default paths is to leap toward what’s new and shiny—developing a class or talk—while avoiding the tedious or uncomfortable: Q1 financials, insurance submissions… or that conversation I’ve been putting off.

Last week, I found myself in full-blown Aversion, one of Buddhism’s Five Hindrances. And I recruited all the others to help:

• Grasping at pleasurable distractions (hello, learning addiction)
• Sloth after dinner, cuddling with my poodle enabler, Leo
• Restlessness and worry about getting everything done
• And the toughest of all: Doubt—in my ability to navigate this conversation with care

The funny thing is, engaging all five of these patterns is exhausting. And that fatigue is what finally cracked open my resistance.

Thanks to daily meditation and the wise counsel of a spiritual friend, I began to observe it all with curiosity and compassion. I saw the old story and heard the small voice: You don’t know how to do this. It might not go well. What if…?

Using the RAIN practice, I recognized, allowed, and investigated the feelings. They were real. But were they true?

Even the phrase “difficult conversation” carried weight. What made it difficult? I wasn’t afraid to speak honestly. What I feared was not knowing how the other person would respond. I wanted to control the outcome. And that was the real avoidance—not of the conversation, but of the uncertainty.

So I returned to what I know and often share with others:

• We can get clear on our intention.
• We can speak with courage and care.
• We can invite someone into shared understanding.
• But we can’t control the outcome.

That’s what I had been resisting. Once I saw that, I could do what was mine to do: prepare thoughtfully, show up fully, speak clearly, and listen well.

And that “7 or 8” I was anticipating on the Emotional Richter scale? It turned out to be a 2 or 3 at best. Negativity bias had me on the survival trail. Awareness, curiosity, and compassion helped turn me towards a wiser one of greater expansion and possibility.

Here’s to your stepping off the well-worn path of protection and exploring the trail of possibility!