Meant to Struggle

We think we want comfort, but what we really crave is challenge. Struggle makes life meaningful. It's not the easy parts that fulfill us, but the hard ones.

We think we want comfort. We imagine that if we could just get to the point where things are easy, we'd be happy. It’s a nice fantasy: a cushy job, a stress-free life, maybe even early retirement. But there’s something off about that picture. Whenever people actually get to that point, they’re usually not satisfied. They start looking for new problems to solve, new challenges to tackle. It turns out, we’re not wired to be comfortable. We’re meant to struggle.

Look at Michael Jordan. He’s the best basketball player of all time, but his drive wasn’t just about winning championships. It was about proving something—mostly to himself. He’d create struggles where there were none, inventing slights and rivalries to keep himself motivated. It’s almost like he needed the challenge to keep going. He needed to struggle to feel alive. And it’s not just athletes. Steve Jobs had already made a fortune with Apple, but after getting fired, he could have just relaxed. Instead, he started NeXT and Pixar, and then came back to Apple and took it to new heights. Why? He could have coasted. But like Jordan, he seemed to need something to push against.

The funny thing is, this pattern isn’t limited to the super ambitious or the unusually driven. It’s something we all do. I noticed it in myself when I was programming. At first, coding was a thrill—a complex puzzle that I couldn’t wait to solve. But over time, as I got better, the thrill wore off. The problems I was solving started to feel routine, and the excitement faded. It’s not that programming itself became less valuable; it was that the struggle was gone. It reminded me of playing a video game on the easiest setting: fun for a while, but ultimately boring. The excitement is in the challenge, the uncertainty, the chance to push your limits.

It’s kind of a paradox: we think we want things to be easy, but when they are, we’re not satisfied. We’re actually happier when we’re struggling with something. There’s a deeper, almost biological reason for this. Our brains are wired to seek novelty and challenge. When things get too predictable, we get bored. It’s why someone might leave a stable, well-paying job to start a risky business, or why people take on ridiculous physical challenges like marathons or Ironman triathlons. It’s not about the medals or the money; it’s about proving something. It’s about finding out what you’re capable of.

Nietzsche understood this better than most. He wrote about the will to power, not just as a desire for control over others, but as a drive to overcome, to transcend what you are now. It’s not enough just to maintain; you have to grow, to push beyond your current limits. This isn’t just philosophical mumbo jumbo—it’s a pretty accurate description of what drives people, whether they’re trying to conquer the world or just improve their high score in a video game.

But here’s where it gets really interesting. Even though our culture is obsessed with comfort and convenience, the reality is that comfort alone is deeply unsatisfying. Comfort is nice when you’re exhausted, but as a steady diet, it’s hollow. It’s like eating candy for every meal. And yet, this is what so many people are chasing—a cushy job, a big house, the freedom to do nothing. It’s like we’re trying to get to a point where we don’t have to do anything hard ever again. But once we get there, we realize that it’s not what we actually wanted. We thought we wanted comfort, but what we really wanted was the feeling of overcoming something difficult.

So why do we keep falling for it? Part of it is because struggle is hard, and our brains are lazy. They want the path of least resistance. But when we get that path, we’re not happy. We’re wired for struggle because it’s in struggle that we grow. It’s the gap between what you can do and what you want to do that makes life interesting. If there’s no gap, there’s no excitement, no urgency, no feeling of being alive.

Take Elon Musk. He doesn’t have to be sending rockets to Mars or reinventing the electric car. He’s already got more money than he could ever spend. But like Jordan or Jobs, he’s driven by something internal, something that makes him keep pushing against the next big obstacle. It’s not enough for him to just be successful; he needs to be constantly striving for something that seems out of reach. That’s where he finds his fulfillment, not in comfort but in the struggle to achieve the impossible.

It’s the same reason why people climb mountains or write novels or start companies. It’s not because they expect it to be easy. They do it because it’s hard. And in the process, they discover something about themselves. They find out where their limits are, and then they push beyond them. That’s what makes life feel meaningful—not the easy parts, but the challenges, the struggles.

So maybe the real trick isn’t to avoid struggle, but to pick the right kinds of struggles. The ones that force you to grow, that make you feel alive. We’re not meant to sit around and be comfortable all the time. We’re meant to push, to explore, to find out what we’re capable of. Comfort feels good when you’re tired, but if that’s all you’re aiming for, you’re going to end up bored and unfulfilled.

In the end, it’s the struggle that gives life its texture. It’s the hard things, the uncertain things, the things that push us to our limits that make us feel most alive. So don’t shy away from the struggle. Embrace it. It’s not just part of life—it’s the whole point.