Why a fulfilling life is about more than reducing stress and avoiding discomfort
We are swimming in advice on how to shrink our daily friction. Set boundaries, protect your peace, prune your calendar, cut out difficult people, and treat comfort as the ultimate metric of a well-lived day.
Much of this guidance is sensible, and after years of hustle culture, this collective sigh of relief was overdue. But somewhere along the line, we seem to have confused a low-friction life with a good one. We have become so consumed with whittling away life’s irritations that we rarely stop to ask the harder question: what if the point of being here isn’t simply to collect fewer problems, but to build a life genuinely worth showing up for?
Recent psychological research suggests that thriving requires much more than happiness or the absence of distress. The 2025 Global Flourishing Study, which surveyed over 200,000 adults across 22 countries, examined well-being through six interconnected dimensions: relationships, purpose, health, character, happiness, and financial security. Its findings point to a quiet truth often lost in the wellness conversation: true flourishing is complex, layered, and demands far more of us than quiet comfort.
Along similar lines, psychologists Shigehiro Oishi and Erin Westgate (2025) have introduced the concept of psychological richness. They propose that a life well-lived can also be measured by how interesting, varied, and perspective-shifting our experiences are. These are not necessarily moments of easy joy. Wrestling with a new language, navigating an unfamiliar city, raising a child, mastering a demanding craft, or taking on a high-stakes project can bring real frustration, exhaustion, and self-doubt. Yet these messy, effortful chapters are almost invariably the ones we look back on with the deepest gratitude.
To be clear, this is not an argument for glorifying burnout. Chronic, debilitating stress ravages the mind and body, and genuinely unhealthy or exploitative situations should never be romanticized as character-building. But there is a profound difference between temporarily tolerating harmful circumstances and embracing the natural, productive discomfort that accompanies growth.
In fact, the antidote to feeling overwhelmed is often not less engagement, but deeper meaning. A 2024 meta-analysis on purpose and stress found that people with a strong sense of purpose consistently reported less subjective stress (the perception of how stressful a situation will be). Another recent study involving more than half a million participants similarly linked a robust sense of purpose to significantly fewer depressive symptoms. Purpose does not magically clear our plates of difficulty, but it provides the weight and context that make demanding effort feel worthwhile.
Building a bigger life is not about frantic overachievement or crowding every hour with busyness. It is about depth. It might look like investing in a neglected friendship, mentoring someone just starting out, volunteering in your neighborhood, picking up an old curiosity, challenging your physical limits, or making space for ideas that shake your assumptions. It also requires remembering that fulfillment does not exist in a vacuum of self-optimization; human flourishing has always been tied to contributing to others and feeling rooted in a community.
My wife and I travel to Guatemala almost every year to help build homes for families who need them. The days can be long, the work physically demanding, and the conditions far removed from our everyday comforts. Yet these trips have become some of the most meaningful experiences of our lives. Not because they are relaxing, but because they allow us to work alongside others, build relationships, experience a different way of life, and contribute to something that matters beyond ourselves.
Of course, building a bigger life does not require travelling to another country. It might mean mentoring a young person, volunteering in your community, reconnecting with an old friend, learning something new, or simply becoming more involved in the lives of people around you. The opportunity to create meaning is often much closer than we think.
Perhaps we need to start asking ourselves better questions.
Instead of asking, How can I make my life easier?, what if we asked, What would make my life richer?
Instead of wondering what we can safely eliminate, what if we asked what worthwhile commitment, we are ready to invite in?
A good life is rarely a frictionless one. It is rich, demanding, and full of the kind of meaningful engagement that stretches who we are. When life feels hollow, the answer is not always to retreat into smaller, safer rooms it is to open the doors wider, step out, and build a life big enough to hold the effort.
