Easy Way or Hard Way to Do Things
Here's Why You Keep Doing Things The Hard Way
And why it's okay to stop
Why do we do things the hard way? There are often other routes, readily available tools, or resources at our disposal. And yet we're just stubborn enough not to use them.
The Path of Most Resistance
If you haven't seen Free Solo, my first piece of advice — irrespective of what this article does for you—is to watch it. It's truly gripping. And hopefully it's been out long enough for this to not be a *spoiler alert* but… he does, in fact, make it to the top.
Of course there's more to it than that. And though the film boasts some of the most amazing footage ever caught on camera, I also have a feeling that even seeing it in an IMAX theatre wouldn't do this feat justice. There aren't even really words for it; it's unfathomable. But stubborn writer that I am, I'm going to try anyway, as a brief introduction.
Alex Honnold, a professional rock climber and renowned free soloist, decides that he's going to climb El Capitan—a 3,000-foot vertical rock formation that is, for all intents and purposes, a wall—without ropes.
No, wait, that doesn't do it.
For those of you that have trouble grasping what 3,000 feet is: this would be the equivalent of climbing the Empire State Building…
…if it were stacked on top of One World Trade Center…
I don't know if you've ever stood at the base of these behemoths, but taking your breath away is an understatement. Now imagine climbing both of them in a t-shirt and khakis.
Or maybe now that you have those two buildings in mind, go back and look at the title photo, and try to come to terms with exactly how big that rock face actually is. He climbed that. I get vertigo from thinking about it.
The movie follows Alex's journey as he battles with his thirst for pushing the envelope, and how it affects his relationship with his significant other, his friends, and with himself. You learn a lot about this protagonist, how his amygdala doesn't function like everyone else's (shocker), and what it takes to make a person like him tick.
The Path of Least Resistance
The truth is, you can also walk up the backside of El Capitan. There are many professional rock climbers that simply use rope to climb the colossal rock wall. There are plenty of other acceptable strategies available that make summiting this beast more than plausible.
Imagine how anticlimactic the finish of the documentary would have been if when Alex summited, swinging his leg over the final ledge, I was just already nonchalantly standing at the top like:
"Oh, dude, you missed a great sunrise! I got up here super easily — just walked right up that trail over there! Want a bite of my hash brown?"
So why does Alex go this route? What is to be gained by free soloing El Cap?
Is it pride? He's certainly not one to brag and he's not the type to "have something to prove," either. He simply likes climbing and he enjoys the freedom. If you saw the film, I think you'd agree that Alex is quite humble, polite, and if there were a chip on his shoulder it's no larger than a crumb. Is it flirting with death? It can't be that — once he gets up above 30 or 40 feet, he's dying if he falls. The remaining 2,960-some feet are irrelevant. So why keep going?
Is it solely the juxtaposition of risk and excitement? Is there any level of excitement that allows death to actually become an acceptable solution?
I'm not sure.
But the real question is: What if I did meet him at the top by taking the easy way, and we saw the same sunrise and the same view — what exactly is the difference? What is it that you or I believe is missing in comparison to him?
Difficult Means Special
Truthfully, we're taught from a very early age that if it comes easy, it's not special.
The idea that it's only worth it if you have to work for it is engrained into our brains from some of the earliest, simplest tasks all the way through to our most notable accomplishments.
Originally, I think, this is meant to instill discipline and teach us that we can't always just feed our impulses. As a baby, if you want dessert, you have to suffer through your green beans. As a child, you have to finish your homework before you can play outside. This is because we're too young to have full autonomy. We don't know what's best for us.
But eventually, we carry these concepts into our adulthood, even when we have the time, energy, capacity, and wherewithal to rightfully understand what is good for us and what isn't. And sometimes, it's just no longer applicable. We also inevitably create this direct correlation between level of difficulty and specialness. The more difficult the path, the more special you are.
We're taught from a very early age that if it comes easy, it's not special.
We extrapolate this belief into crucial sectors of our life, like our fitness, our health, our careers, and our relationships.
- If your fitness journey is easy, then you're not pushing yourself enough.
- If you take medication for your anxiety, then you're weak.
- If you don't work 60-hour work weeks, then you don't deserve a raise.
- If your significant other doesn't make you work for it, they must not be very desirable.
And why do we want to feel special? You'd think if it were that preposterous, no one would subscribe to this ideology. But the reality is, we let this happen because special means important. Because almost everyone on the planet has a looming fear at their core, a fear that whispers, "You don't matter."
And so we develop this incessant drive, this innate need to prove ourselves. Sometimes it is pride. Sometimes it's to prove ourselves to people in our immediate circle, such as fathers, mothers, children, coworkers, or spouses. But a lot of the time, it's primarily to prove ourselves to… well, ourself.
"You're Not the Man On Fire"
The reality is, we all like to think we're the protagonist, don't we? That's why we think that we deserve to be special. We feel cheated when things don't go our way, when we are hit with a reality check that reminds us: "we're not special." It's this feeling that causes people to cut other people off in traffic, or skip the line at the deli, or feel personally victimized by a global pandemic.
"How unfair that this is happening to ME, the protagonist!"
Chris D'Elia (despite what you may think of him) has a great stand-up bit that illuminates this. He talks about how people watch Denzel Washington in films like The Man on Fire and think, "that's me."
But in actuality, that's none of us. Not Chris D'Elia, even while he's recording a special; not Denzel Washington, even when he's playing the main character; not the quarterback during the Super Bowl — none of us.
And what's brilliant about Alex Honnold, our hero from Free Solo, is that he knows and understand this. He actively admits that he doesn't feel any obligation to survive any of his stunts, something that a protagonist would never say. He knows that in the grand scheme of things, he doesn't really matter.
And if you're reading that thinking, "wow, thats depressing," maybe you're right.
But the powerful, unspoken clause that follows the phrase "I don't really matter," is "…and that's okay."
I talked about a lot of this with my therapist, and she said something quite poignant. She told me, "pride doesn't build much, other than more pride."
The moment we make a mistake is the instant we start comparing ourselves and our achievements to others. And for all I know, Alex may have been completely fine to share a hash brown with me at the summit. We might have had a good conversation and left the top of El Cap with the same realizations and appreciations. But he wouldn't have cared if I was impressed with him or not, because he knows he's doing what he loves, and he's doing it the way that he wants to do it. He's not a prideful guy.
You don't have to matter to others, or matter in the grand scheme of things to be happy. Happiness and inconsequentiality are not mutually exclusive concepts. You can not matter all day long, and still find happiness. Happiness comes from within; it's derived from finding value in the experience as a human.
So it's okay that I'm not equipped with the same tools that Alex Honnold is. It's okay if I want to climb the easy route to see the same things that he sees. It's okay if you need to take medication, or if you find a way to make your workouts easier. It's okay if your significant other is always accessible.
A little humility can go a long way.
It's not a weakness to utilize what's available to you. We don't have to intentionally limit ourselves, or purposely seek struggle to feel that we deserve what we have, or that who we are is special, or worthy.
What's important is the takeaway. What did the sunrise do for you, regardless of how you got there?
If you haven't yet signed up for Medium, it truly is a great place to check out thousands of authors and write some pieces of your own. Plus, as a member, you can also read the rest of my stuff. My mom does it, and she's a cool (partially biased) lady. You'd be in good company, is all I'm saying.
Source: https://betterhumans.pub/heres-why-you-keep-doing-things-the-hard-way-bcd611b70ec0
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