In our modern capitalist societies, we have come to believe that a good life is a comfortable life. But trees, if they are not buffeted by the wind and the elements, wither and die. If Racine’s poetry were not constrained by the alexandrine, his sonnets would be flat and slippery.
If our life is smooth, without texture, without angles or cracks, then it, too, dies, suffocated by its own comfort.
Because life presses us, twists us, and wrings us out, we are able to grow. By allowing ourselves to be shaped by the many discomforts that life presents to us, we fully enter into the flow of our own becoming.
Our true strength lies not in defensive struggle or cozy barricading, but in surrender.
This is what the spiritual path—as I understand and practice it—offers us: an uncomfortable path at the very heart of life.