Finding Alignment Through Change

For so much of my life, I equated stability with control. If I could avoid change, hold on tightly to routines, relationships, and even old ways of thinking - I believed I was safe. But what I’ve learned over the past few years is that rigidity creates its own kind of imbalance. The body stiffens. The mind narrows. The spirit resists. True alignment, I’ve discovered, is not in avoiding change but in moving through the discomfort it brings. On the other side of resistance is expansion. The chance to step into new experiences that stretch us, shape us, and bring us closer to who we’re meant to be.

The Rigidity of Avoiding Change

When we resist change, the body tells the story before the mind catches on. The jaw clenches, the shoulders creep up toward the ears, breath shortens and barely reaches the belly. Sleep can become restless, digestion uneasy. We armor ourselves with tension in a subconscious effort to feel steady. This is a pattern I have felt in countless clients as a Licensed Massage Therapist. 

There have been times during my own journey when uncertainty felt unbearable. I tried to hold everything together by sheer force; micromanaging my schedule, bracing against bad news, and clinging to what was familiar, even when it pulled me out of alignment. My body told the truth of that resistance: tight muscles, a constant knot in my stomach, headaches that reminded me I wasn’t breathing deeply enough. As someone who struggles with chronic illness, this dysregulation tends to snowball into more serious health conditions at a faster rate than some, which only complicates and continues this vicious cycle.

We often confuse this kind of rigidity with strength. But there is a fine line between strength and stubbornness. And when that line is crossed it creates real palpable imbalance within. Like a tree refusing to bend in the wind, we risk breaking under pressure when we cannot soften. Alignment begins not with resisting change, but with noticing how it shows up in our bodies.

Moving Through the Discomfort

Discomfort is where transformation begins. The nervous system interprets change as threat shifting us into fight-or-flight. Muscles grip, the heart races, and the mind starts scanning for danger. Yet, when we meet discomfort with gentleness, the body slowly learns a different story.

There are practices that guide us through this threshold:

• Breath awareness. Simply lengthening the exhale signals safety to the Vagus Nerve, helping the body soften its grip. We can’t pause to breathe calmly if we’re running from a bear in the forest. The trouble is, our bodies sometimes react to a tight deadline or an overextended schedule as if it were that same bear. Pausing to remind your body that you are safe, helps re-regulate the nervous system so that we can settle into ourselves and feel the difference between anxiety and intuition when they arise.

• Restorative movement. When we engage in restorative movement, we give the body permission to breathe more fully and let go of the tension it holds. This is one of the reasons things like yoga, dancing, and other forms of active movement truly do heal. The stop tension from becoming stagnant, when surges of stress hormones flood the body 

• Bodywork and touch. Massage reminds the body it can let go. It allows you to feel supported, cared for, and nurtured. When you show up for yourself, you feel more aligned and steady in your experiences. A skilled touch communicates comfort and activates the parasympathetic response, giving the nervous system a chance to return to homeostasis.

I’ve experienced this myself in seasons of change. What once felt unbearable softened when I gave myself permission to pause, to breathe, to stretch, to receive care. Discomfort didn’t vanish, but it became a bridge rather than a wall.

Embracing New Experiences

Once we move through discomfort, we find that the body opens again. Breath deepens. Shoulders lower. Posture feels rooted yet spacious. Alignment in this sense is not rigid or forced, it is a steadying presence within us that makes room for what is new.

Gentle rituals support this process. A warm mug of your favorite tea. A morning walk when the air is crisp and quiet. Journaling a single line about gratitude or release. These are not grand gestures but daily touchstones that help the body trust that change can be safe, even nourishing.

Nature teaches the same truth. In autumn, trees release their leaves not in defeat, but in preparation for renewal. Their letting go creates balance in the cycle of life. We, too, can release outdated habits, rigid expectations, old versions of ourselves, and embrace the experiences waiting on the other side. I think back to times when I resisted change, only to discover that new chapters held healing and opportunities I never expected. Each shift, while uncomfortable, expanded my understanding of who I am and what alignment truly means.

Steadiness isn’t about holding perfectly still while the world changes around us. It is about feeling firmly grounded in yourself so that you are able to listen to the body’s cues, softening through discomfort, and trust that change can carry us toward growth. We may not be able to avoid every stressor, but we can choose how we meet them, with steadiness, with breath, with presence. The next time you feel yourself bracing against the unknown, pause. Breathe. Stretch. Change is inevitable. But alignment, that steady place within is something we can return to again and again.