The "Could Be Worse" Trap

"Good morning, how are you?"

"Could be worse. I've seen worse."

That exchange haunted me for five years in London. Almost every shop, every street vendor, same soul-crushing response. At first, it was just awful. Then it became unbearable.

Why? Because it was a daily declaration that life, at its best, was merely tolerable.

I had stumbled into a world where people expected the worst. Where a nice day was an anomaly, not the norm.

Coming from America, where my life seemed to get better with each passing day, this was a shock to my system. It wasn't just cultural differences. It was a fundamental disconnect in how we viewed life itself.

The "could be worse" mentality isn't just pessimism. It's a prison. It locks you into a life of lowered expectations, where surviving is the goal, not thriving.

This mindset isn't unique to London. It's a global epidemic, masked as realism or practicality. And it's slowly killing our potential for greatness.

The contrast between cultures hit me hard. In America, we breathed possibility the “American Dream” at least on the surface.

In London, people seemed to exhale resignation. This shocking difference wasn't just about outlook – it reflected deep-rooted societal structures.

The UK's rigid class system, with its seven or eight recognized social tiers, breeds stagnation. People aren't expected to move up or down. Your experiences, your potential – they're predetermined by your birth. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy of mediocrity.

But negative expectations aren't just a British quirk. They're a global pandemic. We've normalized struggle and idealized survival. "I'm surviving" has become an acceptable answer to "How are you?" When did we set the bar so low?

This mentality seeps into every aspect of our lives, especially our health. We're taught to react to disease, not promote wellness. Being sick is the new normal. Being healthy is the exception.

Look at our food choices:

• 60% of the American diet is ultra-processed food

• Only 1 in 10 adults eat enough fruits and vegetables

• 88% of Americans are metabolically unhealthy

We're literally choosing illness. And you know what? Healthy options are just as accessible. We're actively selecting the path of least resistance, even when it leads to a cliff.

Are we expecting the worst because we're consistently choosing it?

Let's be clear: For some, it truly "could be worse." There are people living in unimaginable hardship right now. But that's not an excuse for complacency. It's a call to action.

As a kid, I received a t-shirt and button that became my guiding principle: "Speak Up, Speak Out, Don't be Spoken For." Little did I know how crucial this message would be throughout my life.

Speaking up didn't come naturally at first. It was uncomfortable, even terrifying at times. But I forced myself to do it, again and again, until it became second nature. That practice has been invaluable.

I was struck by something a polyglot said about language learning: "Ease of practice leads to difficulty in speaking, whereas difficulty in practice leads to ease in speaking." This principle applies perfectly to speaking up in life.

The same week, I listened to a podcast about propaganda and societal programming. A North Korean refugee shared her experience of attending a U.S. university. When she challenged the status quo in her sociology class, offering a different perspective based on her lived experience, she was "cancelled." The pushback against her views was eerily familiar. "This is exactly what it looked like in Korea before it became a total dictatorship," she thought.

The road to oppression is paved with small silences.

It starts with people choosing the path of least resistance. Not speaking up because it's easier to go with the flow. Not challenging ideas because they don't want to rock the boat. Sound familiar?

We're seeing this play out in real-time. Parents are fighting school districts that prioritize ideology over education. Children are being told to accept situations that defy common sense and fairness, all in the name of "acceptance."

How did we get here? By taking the easy "yes" instead of the difficult "no." By choosing comfort over conscience.

Yes, speaking up is hard. It's uncomfortable. It might make you unpopular. But the alternative – a world where your values are trampled and your voice is silenced – is far worse.

Like learning a language, speaking up gets easier with practice. The difficult conversations you have today pave the way for a life of ease in self-advocacy tomorrow. I've lived this truth, and it's transformed my life.

So, the next time you're tempted to stay silent for an easy life, ask yourself: What's the real cost of your comfort? And are you willing to pay it?

Remember: Speak Up, Speak Out, Don't be Spoken For. 

Your future self will thank you for the courage you show today.

Life isn't a cakewalk. Challenges, setbacks, and hardships are real.

But focusing solely on the difficulty doesn't make it easier. It just makes you bitter.

The only way to truly overcome is to demand better, even when it seems impossible. Especially when it seems impossible.

Consider this: While wallowing in misery, someone's profiting from your pain.

Big Pharma rakes in billions from easily preventable conditions:

• The global diabetes drug market: $78.8 billion in 2022

• Antidepressant market: Expected to reach $28.6 billion by 2028

• Obesity drug market: Projected to hit $54 billion by 2030

Yet, many of these conditions are manageable or even reversible through lifestyle changes. Remember the mayor of New York who reversed his diabetes through diet and exercise? He ditched the meds and embraced a plant-based diet. His "incurable" condition vanished.

Being in the “alternative” more natural side of the health and medicine community, I’ve met countless people like this, sadly we are still the rare ones.

Your health isn't just personal. It's political. It's economic. And you have more power than you think.

We're wired to seek the path of least resistance, but the easy path often leads to a difficult life, while the difficult path leads to an easier life.

Like what the Spanish teacher said. "Ease of practice leads to difficulty in speaking, whereas difficulty in practice leads to ease in speaking."

Think about that. When you choose the easy way – passive listening, simple vocabulary apps – you feel good in the moment. But when it's time to actually speak? You're lost.

Contrast that with challenging yourself – full immersion, complex grammar exercises, regular conversation practice. It's tough. It's frustrating. But when you need to use the language? It flows.

This principle applies to every aspect of life:

• The easy path: Processed convenience foods, sedentary lifestyle Result: Chronic health issues, limited mobility, dependence on medication

• The challenging path: Whole foods, regular exercise, stress management Result: Vibrant health, independence, quality of life

Choosing the challenging path isn't about making life harder. It's about investing in your future self. It's saying, "I'm willing to do the hard work now for a lifetime of ease later."

The benefits are infinite:

1. Resilience: You build mental and emotional strength

2. Adaptability: You learn to thrive in any situation

3. Confidence: You prove to yourself what you're capable of

4. Freedom: You're not bound by limitations you once accepted as fact

The challenging path isn't just about personal growth. It's about reclaiming your power. It's a radical act of self-love in a world that profits from your complacency.

Here I am, at a book festival in Texas. It's unfamiliar territory, both literally and figuratively. As an author, it's tempting to hide behind my desk, to let my words speak for themselves. But that's the easy path. And we know where that leads.

Being here is my way of doing the heavy lifting now for a life of ease later. It's challenging. It's uncomfortable. But it's necessary if I want my books to reach the children and families who need them.

This experience forces me to ask myself:

Am I truly an author?

A writer?

Or am I just playing at it?

These questions aren't comfortable, but they're necessary.

Now, I'm asking you to do the same. Take a hard look at your life:

1. Where are you choosing the easy path at the expense of your future?

2. What challenging steps could you take now for a life of ease later?

3. Are you living up to your potential, or hiding from it?

Be honest with yourself. It might sting, but that discomfort is the first step towards growth.

Technology has given us unprecedented convenience, but at what cost? We've become accustomed to instant gratification, to having the world at our fingertips. But this ease is an illusion.

Technology has made many aspects of life easier, but it hasn't made life itself easier. In fact, it's created new challenges:

• Information overload leading to decision paralysis

• Social media comparison traps fueling anxiety and depression

• The pressure to be constantly connected and productive

We've forgotten the value of struggle, of working towards something. We expect solutions to be as quick and painless as a Google search.

But real growth, real achievement, real fulfillment? They don't come from an app. They come from pushing yourself beyond your comfort zone, from embracing the challenge instead of avoiding it.

Technology should be a tool, not a crutch. Use it to enhance your efforts, not to replace them. Let it amplify your work, not define it.

The most valuable things in life – health, relationships, personal growth – can't be outsourced to an algorithm. They require our time, our effort, our struggle.

Let's talk about my daughters and geometry. Right now, they're both knee-deep in it, and I'll be honest – it's not at all smooth sailing. There have been tears. Frustration.

The inevitable "Why do I even need to learn this?"

Here’s why: They're not just learning about angles and shapes. They're learning how to push through discomfort. How to approach problems from different angles. How to persevere when the answer isn't immediately obvious.

Geometry isn't just about math. It's about mental flexibility, spatial reasoning, and logical thinking. These skills translate far beyond the classroom.

We're not homeschooling to tick boxes or impress colleges. We're doing it to challenge our children. To help them grow. To prepare them for a world that will demand more of them than just memorizing facts.

The hidden benefits of tackling difficult subjects like this:

1. Improved problem-solving skills

2. Enhanced critical thinking

3. Increased confidence in facing challenges

4. Development of a growth mindset

Think about it. When my daughter solves a complex geometric proof, she's not just finding an answer. She's training her brain to break down complex problems into manageable steps. She's learning to think systematically. She's building the mental muscles she'll need to tackle real-world challenges.

And let's not forget the resilience factor. Every time they push through frustration to reach understanding, they're proving to themselves that they can overcome difficult tasks. That's a lesson that will serve them far beyond any math class.

The struggle is the point. It's in the struggle that true learning happens. It's in the struggle that character is built.

So next time your child (or you) face a challenging subject, remember:

• The frustration is temporary. The skills gained are permanent.

• The subject matter might be forgotten. The problem-solving abilities will last a lifetime.

• The grades aren't the goal. The growth is.

Let's get clear on something:

A life of ease isn't the same as an easy life. An easy life is about avoiding discomfort at all costs.

A life of ease?

That's about having the strength, skills, and resilience to navigate life's challenges with grace.

Think of it like this: An easy life is a house of cards. A life of ease is a fortress.

To build that fortress, you need to challenge yourself appropriately. This isn't about making life needlessly difficult. It's about strategic discomfort – pushing yourself just beyond your current capabilities.

Here's how to do it:

1. Identify your comfort zone

2. Sit with the discomfort

3. Take one step beyond it

4. Master that new level

5. Repeat

This approach applies to everything – physical fitness, intellectual growth, emotional intelligence, career advancement. The key is consistency and gradual progression.

Now, let's talk about discomfort. In our comfort-obsessed culture, we've demonized it.

But discomfort is not your enemy. It's your greatest teacher.

Discomfort is the price of admission for a meaningful life. It's the resistance that builds your strength, the friction that polishes your skills, the pressure that forms your resilience.

Consider these:

• Muscles grow through the micro-tears caused by resistance training

• The brain forms new neural pathways when challenged with novel tasks

• Emotional resilience is built by facing and overcoming difficult situations

Without discomfort, there is no growth.

Without growth, there is no progress.

Without progress, life becomes stagnant – and ironically, more difficult.

So, embrace discomfort. Welcome it. Seek it out in measured doses.

It's not about suffering for the sake of suffering. It's about using discomfort as a tool to sculpt your best self.

Life's challenges often feel like a dark tunnel. You can't see the end from where you're standing. It's tempting to turn back, to retreat to the familiar darkness behind you.

But the only way out is through.

Keep moving forward. Keep your eyes on that pinprick of light ahead. It might seem impossibly far away, but with each step, it grows brighter.

And you grow stronger.

Your stride becomes more confident. Your back straightens. Your head lifts higher. The journey itself transforms you.

This isn't just flowery metaphor. It's the essence of personal growth through perseverance. It's not about reaching the destination. It really is about who you become along the way.

The light at the end of the tunnel isn't just an exit. It's a rebirth.

You emerge not just as a survivor, but as a stronger, wiser, more capable version of yourself. This is how you build a life of ease – not by avoiding tunnels, but by becoming an expert at navigating them.