Don’t get too comfortable

I encountered an interesting question the other day.

“Is everything easy in heaven?”

We tend to presume that in a ‘perfect’ place, mortal struggles are struck from the equation. That we basically just float around on clouds, sipping pina coladas and being waited on by some chiseled Adonis for all eternity.

But on closer inspection, such a notion seems fundamentally flawed. Because while we long for lives devoid of difficulty, most of the meaning we draw from existence is derived directly from overcoming obstacles.

Think about it.

In the satisfaction straits, we feel a buttload better after heaving hefty loads at the gym than we do after hanging a limp load of socks on the line.

Conquering complex problems feels fantastic, while identifying the answer to 2 + 3 elicits no such elation.

Self-esteem skyrockets when we finally manage to woo that smart, sexy someone we’ve been pursuing for years. But being propositioned by a sleazy slime ball who already tried cracking onto six of our friends? Not so much.

Achieving the easy stuff is… well… easy. And when we know we haven’t worked that hard for something, we don’t really bother to pat ourselves on the back when we achieve it.

Tough stuff, on the other hand, is a crucial ingredient in the recipe for self-respect.

Yes — struggle begets frustration and failure. And yes — that can suck. Sometimes it can really really suck. But without exposing ourselves to vulnerability and risk, we never get the opportunity to realise what we’re truly capable of.

In an age of helicopter parenting and instant gratification, we’ve become remarkably adept at evading difficulty.

We hover over our children, fighting at the front line of their battles so they never need to personally face problems or pain. We seek to silence every niggle of discomfort we encounter; preferably in the easiest possible way (hello Uber Eats).

But part-way along this path of comfort, as we duck and weave to avoid adversity, we start to wonder why our self-esteem is so low, and why our children lack confidence and resilience.

It’s akin to tackling an all-you-can-eat dessert buffet Augustus Gloop-style. The taste bud titillation is painfully transient, while the love-handle repercussions are cruelly persistent.

In much the same way, actively dodging difficulty in the short-term screws with our self-esteem in the long-term. When we don’t have the chance to prove to ourselves that we can keep going when the going gets tough, we have no reason to believe that we can.

We become fragile and frightened. Breakable. Weak.

The only antidote is to bust ourselves out of our cozy comfort zones. To expose ourselves to experiences that are hard, where failing at least a few times is not only possible but probable. To metamorphose from breakable to anti-fragile.

What this actually looks like is different for everyone.

For one person, it might mean running 5km without stopping. For another, it may be mustering up the courage to approach that pretty brunette at the gym. For a kid, perhaps it’s attempting to stand up to their bully before an adult intervenes on their behalf.

I’m not saying such challenges will go smoothly. Lungs will burn. Rejections may be harsh. Little Jimmy might get himself punched in the nose.

But maybe long-term, a tad of transient pain is preferable to the cotton wool-wrapped alternative.

In time, we may find ourselves becoming better. Actually earning our own respect. Holding ourselves in higher esteem.

So that when life inevitably presents us with those ‘f*ck you’ situations, we’ll be less likely to curl up on the couch and cover ourselves in blankets of Cheetoh dust and self-pity.

Because we’ll know — from personal experience — that we’ll be ok.