Struggle Is the Path
Do I really know struggle?
It’s hard to define what struggle is or how it’s experienced. It’s deeply personal, and we never truly get to compare notes with someone else. We each only know what we’ve lived.
I have a hard time acknowledging my own achievements. I always think I could have done more. To want more and more—I’m sure we all know how that feels. We’re only human.
Over the years, I came to see struggle as a bridge to something better. I’ve left behind secure jobs and long-term relationships, wandered through periods of confusion and loss, and still found my way—emerging on the other side more fulfilled and a little more confident each time. I consider myself lucky to have failed many times. Every time I thought I had failed, I was just crossing one more path off the list—one less mistake to make again. And that brought me a step closer to where I needed to go.
The irony is, the more I’ve experienced, the less I need to feel satisfied. I bit into the forbidden fruit so many times it lost its sweetness. What once lit me up now feels hollow. The shine is gone, and I’m after something real. And the few things that still manage to excite me now require considerable work and deep focus. They demand greater appreciation and respect. Connection, presence, fear—none of them are external, and that’s how I know they are real. They demand continuous struggle and my full attention without compromise. But they’re worth it. Because when everything is said and done, they’re the only things that carry real meaning.
I'm talking about relationships—with myself, with others, with nature. And ultimately, with something greater than myself. The struggle these relationships require often emerges through my work, my travels, my life in the city, my friendships—everything that stretches me. Everything and everyone I engage with helps me better understand my relationship to the self, others, and nature. These elements shape who I become. I'm creating myself in every moment through them.
Eventually, “Who am I?” becomes less important than “Who am I to others?”
How am I in service to everything else?
How do my colleagues see me?
Who am I as a husband to my wife?
How do strangers experience me when I’m ordering coffee?
This is the kind of success I’m learning to value—one that grows through struggle, connection, and presence. We are nature. I see beauty in the wild all the time—now I want to learn to see it in every person, too. But that starts with how I choose to show up: with presence, with humility, with openness.
I’ve been most challenged through my relationships with others. It’s been hard to reconcile my beliefs and align my perspective with those of my colleagues, bosses, friends—anyone I cross paths with. But if you're someone who insists on carving your own path, don’t be surprised when the world pushes back.
That’s part of the deal.