Today I had the honor of being a part of a conference for storytellers in the church world. We got to meet one another, encourage, challenge, and learn together.

But at the end of a day spent with crowds of creatives—swapping stories, sharing best practices, laughing, and crying—all I want to do is pull on some comfy pants and crawl under the covers.

Being around people doesn’t come naturally to me, doesn’t energize me.

But it’s good for me.

It keeps me from crawling into a cave and never coming out. It reminds me that I’m not alone. It reminds me that I’m smarter than I give myself credit for and that I still have a lot left to learn.

I think we sometimes belief a myth around the natural, that if it doesn’t feel natural for us, we should avoid it. If you don’t like it, don’t do it. If it doesn’t feel good, bail. But if it comes naturally… well… it must be right. Do that! I sometimes use this mythologizing around natural to give myself permission to avoid what’s uncomfortable. 

But just because something isn’t natural to us doesn’t mean it’s not good for us.

In fact, the opposite is more likely to be true. If it feels natural, it can very likely be destructive. The things that feel natural to me are laziness, avoidance, over-eating, and generally making things (read: everything) about me. Those are not behaviors that are actually good for me, nor do they benefit those around me. But, hey, they’re natural.

Today, neck deep in relationships and real talk, that was good for me even if I now feel like I’ve been hit by a truck (and then it backed over me for good measure). 

It ain’t natural. But it’s good.