EMBRACING TRANSFORMATION

We are living in a time of unparalleled comfort. Food may be delivered to our door with a few touches on a screen, entertainment can be streamed continuously into our living rooms, and climate control protects us from the weather. With amazing efficiency, we have machined discomfort out of existence. Beneath this accomplishment, however, is a subtle paradox: the very ease we have made may be impeding our progress. Despite its unpleasantness, discomfort is not our enemy. When properly interpreted, it is one of life's most trustworthy indicators that growth is both attainable and imminent.

We must first define discomfort in order to comprehend why it is a sign of growth. From a biological perspective, it is an alert system—a simple yet complex mechanism that developed to alert humans to the need for attention. Physical discomfort is a sign of illness or damage. Emotional discomfort is a warning that something does not align with our expectations, values, or wants. When we encounter new individuals, go through uncharted area, or run the danger of being vulnerable, we experience social discomfort. Discomfort is information in any situation. It just shows a difference between where we are and where we might need to go; it is neither good nor bad in and of itself. We frequently make the mistake of viewing any discomfort as dangerous when, in reality, a large portion of it is just the friction of traveling through unfamiliar territory.

Think about the most revolutionary times in human history. Hundreds of falls are experienced by infants learning to walk, a process of ongoing physical and psychological suffering that ultimately results in one of our greatest accomplishments. Adolescents who are discovering about their identities must deal with rejection, social discomfort, and the agonizing process of self-discovery. Only after innumerable failures—each of which brings the unique anguish of being incorrect, lost, or insufficient—do scientists, artists, and businesspeople seek breakthroughs. Growth and discomfort are causally related, not just correlated. Growth necessitates stepping away from the familiar and into the unknown, therefore you cannot have one without the other. And discomfort resides right at the line that separates familiar from strange.

This fact is becoming more widely acknowledged in contemporary psychology. According to the theory of "optimal anxiety," which was created by early anxiety researchers, peak performance happens in a state of constructive tension rather than total relaxation or intense fear. In a similar vein, Carol Dweck's research on growth mindset shows that people who view challenges as opportunities for learning rather than as personal criticism routinely perform better than those who seek the security of what they already know. These results are consistent with the theory of neuroplasticity in neuroscience, which holds that challenges cause physical changes in the brain. We create new brain connections when we struggle with a new ability, face a challenging issue, or sit with an uncomfortable feeling. According to this theory, discomfort is the feeling that the brain is recreating itself.

However, our culture has evolved a deep discomfort with discomfort in spite of this data. Normal emotional suffering has been pathologized; sorrow is now treated as depression, anxiety as a condition, and frustration as trauma. At the first sign of boredom, we turn to distraction; at the first sign of sadness, we turn to medicine; and at the first inkling of self-doubt, we turn to validation. Ironically, the self-help sector frequently perpetuates this trend by promising easy transformation—as if development could be painless. However, there is a high cost associated with this avoidance. We become numb to the cues that direct development when we numb ourselves to discomfort. Because it would be uncomfortable to go, we continue to work at jobs that no longer challenge us, in relationships that no longer push us, and in behaviors that no longer benefit us.

Masochism is not the alternative. Accepting discomfort as a sign of growth does not imply ignoring real suffering or pursuing pain for its own purpose. The difference between destructive distress and productive discomfort is crucial. Growth signals include the intensity of a good workout, the anxiety of giving a speech in front of an audience, the perplexity of studying mathematics, and the vulnerability of an open discussion. Sleep deprivation, malnutrition, emotional manipulation, physical assault, and persistent worry are not. Knowing the difference between suffering that precedes expansion and discomfort that indicates danger is the key to wisdom. In order to practice this judgment, one must be willing to make mistakes from time to time.

The first step in developing this discernment is what psychiatrist Bessel van der Kolk refers to as "interoception," or the capacity to perceive and understand physical sensations. Rather than running away from discomfort right away, we can stop and inquire: What is this feeling? What location is it? What came before it? What is it asking me to do? These inquiries turn discomfort into a teacher to be heard rather than an enemy to be defeated. Before making a pitch to investors, the entrepreneur has a knot in her stomach, which she interprets as proof that she is increasing her risk tolerance rather than a signal to run. The learner experiences irritation when they are unable to comprehend a challenging text, but they see this as the friction of the formation of new neural connections rather than as evidence of their own shortcomings. The individual in dispute senses the heat of rage and interprets it as knowledge about a value that matters rather than as a call to attack or retreat.

Every aspect of life is affected practically by this reframing. In terms of physical health, this entails viewing discomfort in the muscles as an indication of strength development rather than an injury. In the realm of academia, this entails investigating subjects that are unclear to us instead than ones that we are familiar with. In terms of emotional life, it is remaining in the moment while experiencing sadness, fear, or guilt long enough to absorb their lessons. It entails asking for criticism, having challenging talks, and taking a chance on rejection in social situations.  In the workplace, this entails accepting tasks that seem just a little bit outside of our purview. In each instance, the pain is a feature—the internal GPS warning us that we are at the boundary of our current map—rather than a defect in the system.

The most prosperous people and businesses have taken this lesson to heart. They plan their lives to deal with suffering on a regular basis rather than avoiding it. This is why great writers share early drafts despite their fragility, why outstanding athletes look for training partners who push them to their limits, and why good leaders seek out opposing viewpoints. They recognize that comfort is not the setting for future progress, but rather the reward for previous development. When things start to feel easy, that is exactly when you should raise the bar—not because you are restless, but because you realize that when there is no discomfort, there is no challenge, and when there is no challenge, growth has stopped.

This is not an easy task. A strong and old impulse is to avoid suffering. In a world full of predators and scarcity, it kept our ancestors alive. However, most of us no longer reside in that reality. Uncertainty, hardship, and vulnerability no longer pose a threat to our survival. The progressive atrophy that results from an excess of safety, predictability, and convenience is what currently poses a threat to us.
By depriving us of the very friction that gives us strength, the comfort we have created may be slowly but surely killing us.

The solution is to alter our connection with discomfort rather than completely rejecting comfort. Instead of reacting with dread, we can learn to identify its signal, decipher its message, and react with curiosity. We can develop what psychologist Todd Kashdan refers to as "tolerance for ambiguity, doubt, and the anxiety of not knowing"—not because these emotions are enjoyable, but rather because they are essential to living a purposeful and developing life. We can keep in mind that in order to achieve the most fulfilling experiences—love, education, creativity, and mastery—we must go through the door of discomfort.

Therefore, stop before you flee the next time you have that familiar tightness in your chest, that resistance before a challenging work, or that vulnerability before speaking your truth. Is this growth, or is it danger? You will frequently discover that it is the latter. And in that realization, you will have taken the first step toward accepting suffering as something to welcome rather than something to endure—the clear indication that you are right where you need to be, on the verge of changing.