Making Things Easy Part 1 : The Hidden Sources of Struggle
Why We Make Things Harder Than They Need to Be...
Introduction
Imagine watching two swimmers move down adjacent lanes in a pool. One thrashes through the water, creating splash and turbulence, visibly working hard. In the next lane, someone glides by with barely a ripple, taking just one smooth stroke every few seconds, yet moving much faster and using less energy. Same distance, same water, radically different experiences. This isn't just about technique - it reveals something profound about the nature of effort, struggle, and how we move through life.
The Art of Unnecessary Struggle
Consider a simple task like cleaning a juicer. Standing at the sink, staring at the various parts, you might feel a wave of resistance wash over you. "This is going to take forever," you think, already feeling tired just contemplating the process (insert similar task you feel this way about). The mind spins up its familiar stories about how tedious this will be, how it always takes so long, how you'll probably be stuck here for the next ten minutes at least.
But here's what’s strange about this: when actually timed, cleaning juicer takes something like 20-25 seconds (it was 23 seconds for me!).
This startling difference between perceived and actual difficulty isn't random - it reveals the hidden architecture of how we create struggle. We're not just experiencing tasks; we're adding layers of meaning, resistance, and complexity that transform simple actions into elaborate inner battles.
The Dance of Opposition
Watch a child who's been told to clean their room.
Often they'll spend more energy refusing and complaining than the cleaning would require. We laugh, seeing how they create their own suffering. Yet how often do we do the same thing, just in more sophisticated ways?
Take writing an email you've been putting off. The actual typing might take three minutes, but you might spend days carrying the weight of not having done it. The energy spent maintaining your resistance far exceeds what the task requires. This isn't just procrastination - it's a complex dance of opposition we're performing with ourselves.
Beyond the Struggle Story
Let's try something right now.
Think of a task you've been resisting. Got it? Now, here's where it gets fun - we're going to do a little experiment in consciousness:
Put both hands out in front of you. In your left hand, imagine holding all your resistance to this task - all the stories about how hard it is, all the reasons you can't or shouldn't have to do it, all the feelings of difficulty. Really let yourself feel the weight of all that.
In your right hand, imagine just the pure physical actions needed. If it's sending an email, just the opening of the laptop, the typing, the clicking send. Nothing else.
Now look at your left hand, look at your right hand, and back at your left hand, and notice the radical difference between these two experiences. One hand holds perhaps pounds of emotional and mental weight.
The other holds a few simple actions or movements to perform.
This isn't just a metaphor - it's revealing something crucial about how we construct difficulty. The task itself and our experience of the task are two very different things.
The Freedom in Seeing
Here's where it gets really practical and useful.
Once you can see this difference clearly - really see it, not just intellectually understand it - something remarkable often happens. The added difficulty starts to feel almost comical. Like watching that child refuse to clean their room, you might start to catch yourself in the act of making things harder than they need to be.
This seeing is what we might call metacognition - awareness of awareness. But don't let the fancy term fool you. This is utterly practical, immediate, and often quite playful once you get the hang of it.
Dancing with Double Binds
Often our struggles are maintained by invisible double binds - situations where we're damned if we do, damned if we don't. Here's a common one: "I must do this perfectly" coupled with "It's impossible to do this perfectly." Put these together and you've created a perfect system for ensuring nothing gets done while maintaining maximum stress about not doing it.
It's like two kids fighting over an orange, each insisting they must have the whole thing. Only later does it emerge that one wants the juice for drinking while the other needs the peel for baking.
The solution was never in the realm of the apparent conflict.
The Art of Clean Action
Imagine watching a master chef dice vegetables.
There's a fluidity to their movements, an economy of effort that makes it look effortless. This isn't because they're not doing anything - it's because they're doing exactly what's needed, and nothing more. The knife moves, the vegetables are cut, that's all.
No commentary, no resistance, no added difficulty.
This state of "clean action" isn't limited to masters or experts. It's available to all of us, in any activity, when we stop adding layers of unnecessary effort and struggle to simple actions.
The Energy of Ease
Now consider how much energy gets tied up in maintaining our struggles.
It's like walking around with your muscles tensed all day - exhausting, yet so habitual you might not even notice you're doing it. The moment you become aware of this unnecessary tension, you have the choice to let it go.
This releasing isn't another form of doing - it's a stopping of unnecessary doing. Like realising you've been holding your breath and simply allowing yourself to breathe naturally again.
A Playful Approach to Change
Try this: Next time you encounter a task you habitually resist, approach it with curiosity rather than dread. Instead of gearing up for battle, ask yourself:
"How much of this difficulty am I creating?”
“What would this be like without my added struggle?"
Don't try to force yourself to stop struggling - that's just creating more struggle! Instead, become interested in how you create and maintain difficulty. There's often something almost humorous about catching yourself in the act of making things harder than they need to be.
The Invitation
As you move through your week, treat this as an experiment. Notice where you’ve been adding difficulty to simple actions. Watch how you’ve created or maintained struggle. Not to judge or fix, but to see clearly how this process works.
Remember the two swimmers. The same water, the same distance, but radically different experiences. The difference wasn't in the water - it was in how they moved through it.
This isn't about making everything easy.
Some things genuinely require significant effort. But there's a world of difference between clean effort - the actual energy required for a task - and the added burden of our unnecessary struggle.
As we deepen our exploration in Part 2, we'll delve into how different states of consciousness affect our experience of difficulty. But for now, play with this seeing. Watch how you create struggle. The simple act of seeing this clearly, with curiosity rather than judgment, often begins to dissolve unnecessary difficulty all by itself.
Remember: The goal isn't to never struggle. It's to stop struggling with struggle.
In that simple shift lies the possibility of moving through life with more grace, ease, and yes, even joy.
This is my hope for you,
Anand
This Making Things Easy 7-Part Series was inspired by a live 3hr masterclass training delivered in November 2022
"... they're doing exactly what needs to be done - nothing more." That would be a valuable habit to embody FOR SURE. Anand - these articles and your insights insights are eye-opening and powerful.
Hi Anand,
I loved this piece—so much that I found myself journaling alongside it.
Here is what I was toying with:
The distinction between effort and unnecessary struggle is something I explore constantly in movement, both in my own practice and when coaching others. The swimmer and chef examples, along with the idea of clean effort, made me think about how inefficiency in movement isn’t just about physical technique—it’s about what we unconsciously carry into the effort itself.
I see people making things harder all the time, not because they lack strength or ability, but because they haven’t been taught what ease actually feels like. But, more to your point—sometimes a single cue or past experience embeds a story so deeply into the body that movement and struggle become inseparable.
Of course, some movement IS hard—but when we feel the raw effort itself, without the added mental weight, it’s… not so bad (at least to me 😉).
Which makes me wonder—how often do we resist efficiency because ease feels like cheating? And how many movements feel hard, not because they are, but because we believe they should be?
I’ll be carrying this one with me. Thank you!! Excited to read Part 2.