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Seek Discomfort

· 9 min read
Agastya Darma
Sushi Lovers

Seek Discomfort

Audio Overview


We live in an era where effort is becoming optional.

Craving a meal? Open Gojek or Grab, and it will arrive at your doorstep in 20 minutes. Need new clothes? A few taps on Shopee, and they’ll be delivered the same day. Feeling too tired to talk to someone? Just send a text or voice note. Life’s daily inconveniences are disappearing, erased by technology and smart solutions designed to make everything seamless and effortless.

At first glance, this sounds amazing. Technology is here to enhance our lives, saving us time and freeing us from tedious work. But the more I look around, the more I wonder. What are we doing with this newfound freedom? Are we using it to grow, improve, and challenge ourselves? Or are we becoming complacent and drifting toward an existence where struggle is minimized, and comfort is prioritized above all else?

Boomers complain that Millennials and Gen Z are lazy, entitled, unwilling to put in the hard work their generation endured. Meanwhile, motivational entrepreneurs preach hustle culture, while self-care advocates insist we need to slow down. And now, AI is stepping into the picture—promising to make life even easier, anticipating our needs before we even recognize them ourselves.

With AI tools like NotebookLM assisting with research, coding aids like Cursor speeding up software development, and generative models drafting emails and writing content, the line between productivity and mindlessness is blurring. We are moving toward a society where friction is eliminated altogether.

But here’s the burning question that keeps me up at night: Is a life without struggle truly fulfilling?

I recently came across an insightful article by Julie Zhuo titled Our Souls Need Proof of Work, and it resonated with me deeply. The idea she explores is simple but profound: we are wired for effort. Without it, we lose purpose, resilience, and genuine happiness.

Without effort, without discomfort, we risk living an empty existence.

What exactly constitutes hard work?

In my view, hard work is deeply individual. It's whatever presents a genuine challenge to you personally and the tasks that push against your natural inclinations or comfort zones.

Some find it incredibly difficult to rise at 5 AM for an early morning jog, while others might accomplish this effortlessly but struggle terribly with speaking before crowds. Personally, exercising at the gym, running extended routes, and studying Mandarin all qualify as hard work for me. Each requires discipline and persistence that doesn't come naturally.

Certain individuals handle physically demanding tasks with remarkable ease but find mental activities extraordinarily challenging. Some excel effortlessly in social environments while others find them painfully uncomfortable. Hard work varies dramatically from person to person. It fundamentally involves pushing beyond your familiar boundaries into territory that demands more from you than you'd naturally give.

Therefore, consider this carefully: What genuinely challenges you? What makes you want to quit or avoid the task altogether?

Because that's precisely where your greatest opportunity for meaningful personal development exists. The resistance you feel marks the path toward your most significant growth.

Since childhood, I’ve always longed for comfort.

As a kid, I found joy in simple things: new toys, sweet treats, and lazy Sundays spent on the couch watching cartoons. As I grew older, my desires became more refined but stayed the same at their core. A cozy home in a quiet neighborhood, a reliable car with comfortable seats, enough financial stability to buy what I wanted without worrying about my bank balance, and the freedom to travel wherever I wanted without stressing about vacation days or flight costs.

In Indonesia, people like me are called Anak Ambis (short for “ambitious kid”). I eagerly read articles and watched videos about tech professionals in Silicon Valley, fascinated by their luxurious homes in the California hills, their garages filled with the latest Tesla models, and their endless workplace perks, from gourmet cafeterias to nap pods. I often imagined myself in their position, planning my own path toward that life, where comfort wasn’t just something to have, it was a carefully designed way of living.

But there’s a reason people say, Be careful what you wish for. This phrase has lasted for generations because it carries an important truth.

Comfort is addictive. It can also be deceptive in ways you only notice once you’re already caught in it. Like quicksand disguised as soft carpet, it keeps pulling you in, step by step, making you believe you’re on solid ground until you realize you’re not.

The trap of ultra convenience

Life is designed to eliminate friction. It's an invisible luxury woven into our daily routines, one we rarely question. Need food? Order online. Need a ride? Tap for a Gojek or Grab. Need entertainment? Scroll through an infinite feed of personalized recommendations. The modern world has systematically removed the small inconveniences that once punctuated our existence, replacing them with seamless digital solutions.

And it's only going to get easier. The AI revolution is leading us toward a world where our needs will be anticipated before we express them. Smart assistants will plan our schedules, draft our emails, summarize our meetings, even tell us which purchases we should consider. Hurdles that once required effort like thinking, planning, making decisions will quietly dissolve. We're approaching a reality where cognitive friction itself becomes obsolete, where algorithms silently handle the mental tasks we once struggled through.

At work, AI enhanced tools have already transformed my daily tasks. My productivity skyrocketed, but at the same time, there's a looming sense that something essential is slipping away. The satisfaction of solving complex problems, the growth that comes from overcoming obstacles, the pride in mastering difficult skills. These experiences feel increasingly rare in an optimized world.

When everything becomes easy, what is left to fight for? What becomes of human ambition when the path of least resistance is always illuminated? Perhaps the greatest paradox of our time is that in eliminating life's difficulties, we may be eliminating the very things that make life meaningful.

The sneaky thief of fulfillment

Dopamine is the brain's anticipation chemical. It doesn't bring happiness, it fuels our desire for happiness. It's the neurological carrot dangling before us, pushing us forward with promises it never quite fulfills.

Every time we get what we want, dopamine surges but only for a moment. Then it crashes, leaving us craving the next hit. This biochemical rollercoaster explains why satisfaction is so fleeting and why we're constantly chasing the next reward.

Have you ever posted on TikTok and gotten 40 likes? At first, it feels amazing. Then, one day, one of your videos goes viral and you hit 10,000 likes! Incredible! But from that point on, every new post that gets just 200 likes feels disappointing, despite being five times your original benchmark for success.

Your expectations recalibrate with frightening efficiency. The neural pathways that once lit up at small victories now barely flicker unless stimulated by increasingly dramatic rewards. You can no longer derive joy from what once thrilled you like those 40 likes, that small promotion, or that modest achievement have become invisible, unremarkable. The hedonic treadmill accelerates beneath your feet, forcing you to run faster and faster just to maintain the same level of satisfaction, leaving you breathless in pursuit of diminishing emotional returns. Each new benchmark becomes ordinary with alarming speed.

Extreme comfort doesn't make us happier but i think it makes us numb. When we eliminate all challenges and discomfort from our lives, we inadvertently strip away the very experiences that give life its depth and meaning. The absence of struggle creates a peculiar void where satisfaction should be. Like muscles that atrophy without resistance, our capacity for joy weakens without occasional friction. We construct frictionless environments of convenience and ease, only to find ourselves drifting through them with a vague, unsettling sense that something essential is missing. The contrast necessary to appreciate the good moments, the small victories over adversity that once punctuated our days with genuine satisfaction.

Seeking discomfort for real growth

Recently, I've started experimenting with intentional discomfort as a pathway to personal development not the superficial kind that feels good in the moment but the challenging practices that initially make you question your sanity:

  • Cold showers instead of hot ones, when every cell in my body protests the shock of cold water against warm skin.
  • Intermittent fasting instead of always indulging hunger pangs when they first arise, teaching myself the difference between actual hunger and habitual eating patterns.
  • Waking up at 5 AM instead of rolling out of bed last minute, even on weekends when the temptation to burrow deeper under the covers is nearly overwhelming.

It wasn't easy at first. My body and mind resisted fiercely complaining, bargaining, and sometimes outright rebelling against these self-imposed challenges. But here's what I discovered through persistence and pushing past that initial wall of resistance:

Discomfort breeds resilience. The more I leaned into these daily challenges, the stronger I felt mentally and physically. Even when my company mandated four days in the office instead of remote work, I reshaped my routine, adjusting my commute, meal prep, and exercise schedule and now, I actually feel better for having adapted rather than complained.

Effort is the price of growth. Nothing worthwhile comes without struggle, and I'm learning to embrace that fundamental truth every single day.

We need struggle, not for someone else’s approval, but for ourselves.

Struggle is not something to be avoided but embraced, not for external validation or fleeting rewards, but for personal growth and fulfillment. In a world increasingly optimized for convenience, where effort is becoming optional and friction is systematically removed, we risk losing something essential which are our resilience, sense of purpose, and capacity for joy.

True satisfaction doesn’t come from comfort alone but from overcoming meaningful challenges and pushing beyond our limits. Instead of chasing easy wins or external markers of success, we should intentionally seek discomfort, whether through physical discipline, mental resilience, or personal transformation. It is through struggle, not avoidance, that we grow into stronger, more fulfilled versions of ourselves.

Don’t grind for money, promotions, or prestige. Those highs fade fast.

Don’t chase easy wins . They’ll leave you emptier than before.

Instead, lean into the process. Pursue challenges that make you a better version of yourself.

For me, that means training for a marathon, reading daily, and chasing personal transformation. For you, it might mean pursuing a dream job in Japan, deepening relationships, or facing fears.

Whatever it is embrace the discomfort.