Easy is not the point. Better is the point.

It is a confounding fact of life that better does not always equal easy.

But then life never made us any promises.

On one hand, struggle shakes us rudely awake from our complacency, making us sit up and take notice, alert to every detail. On the other, it throws the gates to fear wide open, clouding our judgement and impeding our capacity to see beyond our pain.

Easier. If only things were easier. Then we would be fine. H a p p y. FULFILLED.

We would feel better. Be better.

Ease lulls us into comfort. When the road is smooth, you exhale deeper. You can close your eyes and relax, just like Frankie says. Aaahhh. This is the life!

But here’s the catch: after a while, comfort numbs us to things we may not want, but truly need. So we get bored. We get restless. We feel a void. We hunger for something more, something new, something better.

But better—better, not just bigger, or more—often demands work. It looks at ease, smiles and sits back, waiting for you to realize tossing and turning in ease was well and good when you were naive and thought you had it all figured out. Better is for when you are ready, not just for more, but for Real with a capital R.

Better is not about laying in the hammock all day; it’s about pulling up your sleeves and climbing uphill and sweating it out, about facing the seemingly impossible boulders in your path that you’ve been ignoring or avoiding.

Better is not giving up the hammock either. It’s about laying in the hammock after you’ve toiled and labored and looked yourself in the eye at the end of the day. The hammock is for rest, restoration, and reflection—a necessary part of life—not the entire life agenda.

Ease is tempting. It’s sitting in a rut, despairing and waiting for your luck to change instead of climbing the walls to get yourself out. It’s hours of mindless scrolling when you could be learning to play the piano or cooking a meal. It’s closing your eyes and nodding instead of confronting convenient half-truths you’ve believed all your life.

But better? Better is . . . inconvenient perhaps, but deeply satisfying, long-lasting, and life-affirming. Better gives us meaning, purpose and direction. You know it when you taste it, and it ups the flavor of life like whoa.

After that, taking anything less is not easy.

Easy is not the point. Better is the point.