Hi folks,
I know I’ve mentioned in the past that parts of my academic career were less than stellar.
In an effort to make up for lost time, I’m reading a number of classic novels. Right now, I’m tackling Herman Melville’s Moby Dick. Which is awesome, though if I’m going to reach my goal of one classic novel a month, maybe I should have chosen The Old Man and the Sea for my nautical book.
Either way, Melville packs his novel full of amazing imagery, not only slowly building an epic story, but also detailing numerous vignettes that help illustrate the daily life of a whaling crew in the 1800s. One that resonated with me was when the narrator of the story was trying to fall asleep on a cold night. He had no fire, but wrapped himself in a blanket with only his nose poking out, exposed to the cold night air. Melville said:
“To enjoy bodily warmth, some small part of you must be cold, for there is no quality in this world that is not what it is merely by contrast. Nothing exists in itself. If you flatter yourself that you are all over comfortable, and have been so a long time, then you cannot be said to be comfortable any more. For this reason a sleeping apartment should never be furnished with a fire, which is one of the luxurious discomforts of the rich. For the height of this sort of deliciousness is to have nothing but the blanket between you and your snugness and the cold of the outer air. Then there you lie like the one warm spark in the heart of an arctic crystal.”
This is basically how I feel about my bed after any camping trip. The mattress that I hate 350+ days out of the year is suddenly a slice of heaven after a night or two in a tent. Or maybe I’m just doing the whole camping thing wrong.
The concept that comfort doesn’t exist without discomfort extends beyond the physical realm, too. At work, a little bit of struggle goes a long way. We need the discomfort of a struggle to learn, to grow, and to simply appreciate what’s in front of us. Sometimes that struggle manifests in the form of a new task that stretches our normal capabilities, sometimes it’s a demanding individual who refuses to accept your perspective, and sometimes it’s jumping into an entirely new position.
Regardless of the form, the struggle is essential. Without it – as individuals and as organizations – we become stagnant, complacent, and blind to the everyday conditions that make our life as comfortable as it is. A warm house never feels as cozy as when you first step inside from the winter wind. And, conversely, staying inside the warm house will never prepare you for the challenge of the winter storm.
Growth is crucial for any individual or organization, and growth doesn’t occur without pushing past existing boundaries. But even those of us who aren’t interested in growth need an occasional struggle to appreciate the comfort of their current state. So whether you’re seeking growth or seeking comfort, find a way to struggle.
Rex