The Comfort Crisis (and why it matters more as we age)

A few weeks ago, I revisited a book that I first read about two years ago, The Comfort Crisis by Michael Easter, and it's been on my mind a lot lately.

The premise is simple, but a bit uncomfortable (which is kind of the point): modern life has made things so easy, so convenient, so COMFORTABLE, that we’ve lost our ability—and sometimes even our willingness—to do hard things.

And that becomes a problem.

Especially as we get older.

Because life doesn’t stop asking hard things of us. Bodies change. Stress shows up. Loved ones need us. Unexpected challenges land in our lap. And if we’ve spent years avoiding discomfort—skipping workouts when we’re tired, choosing convenience over effort, staying safely inside our routines—we may find ourselves not ready.

Not capable.

That’s the real “comfort crisis.”

It’s not that comfort is bad. It’s that too much of it makes us fragile.

What I appreciated about the book is that it wasn’t just theory—it felt like a bit of a kick in the pants. The kind that makes you pause and think, “Okay, where have I been playing it a little too safe?”

I know I have.

So I’ve started thinking about what it looks like to intentionally do hard things again. Not in a punishing, all-or-nothing way, but on purpose, in small and meaningful ways.

Physically, that might mean pushing a workout when I’d rather coast. Choosing to carry the groceries instead of making two easy trips. Shoveling the snow instead of waiting for the sun to take care of it. Taking the stairs every time, even when the elevator is right there. Walking the long way on purpose instead of parking as close as possible.  

Socially, it might mean having a conversation I’ve been avoiding. Putting myself in a room where I don’t know many people. Saying yes to something that feels a little uncomfortable.

And in other ways? It’s about stretching beyond the habits and patterns that feel safe, but don’t actually move the needle.

Because here’s the truth: if we don’t practice doing hard things, we lose the ability to do hard things.

And that’s not a position any of us want to be in as we age.

The goal isn’t to make life miserable. It’s to build a life where we’re capable—physically, mentally, emotionally—of handling whatever comes our way.

So consider this your gentle nudge (and mine, too):

Where have things gotten a little too comfortable?

And what’s one small, slightly uncomfortable thing you could do this week?

Start there.

You don’t need to overhaul your life. You just need to stop avoiding the things that make you stronger.

Because someday, you won’t have a choice.

And it would be nice to know you’re ready.