When Discomfort Becomes the Teacher
“Push into the discomfort, but ease back from the pain.” Those are the words of my wife’s yoga instructor. And that line has been rattling around in my brain ever since. It’s almost too simple, and at the same time, deeply true. It’s one of those distinctions that sounds perfectly clear when you say it out loud. But in practice, most of us struggle to tell the difference. And to be honest, we too often err on the side of safety. We back away from the burn before growth even has a chance to start because we haven’t learned to tell the difference between momentary discomfort and something that will have lasting negative repercussions.
So how do we learn to tell them apart?
The Great Growth Barrier
The line between discomfort and pain exists for a reason. It separates growth that strengthens from strain that damages. The line becomes even more difficult to detect because it’s more often felt than seen.
Perhaps the most common mistake is labeling mere discomfort as harmful pain. I see this constantly. I see it all the time. Someone hits resistance, maybe it’s a tough workout, a clumsy first attempt at something new, the uncertainty of a challenge, or the discomfort of social interaction. And they pull back. We assume, often without realizing it, that anything unpleasant must be dangerous or wrong. And just like that, potential growth is lost.
We stay safely within the limits of what we’ve already mastered. We stick with the relationships that don’t challenge our perspectives. We choose the work that never stretches our abilities. But growth doesn’t happen in that wide band of comfort. It happens at the edge.
Yes, sometimes people push too far. I have seen athletes try to train through legitimate injuries, professionals work themselves into burnout, and relationships where “sticking it out” becomes self-destruction. But in my experience, for every person pushing past their breaking point, twenty more of us are backing away from the very discomfort that would transform us.
If you don't learn to tell the difference, you'll either get stuck or you'll snap.
To make this trickier, your breaking point might be my warm-up. My edge might be your comfort zone. We each carry different thresholds in our bodies and in our minds.
This goes way beyond the yoga mat. These same edges show up when you’re navigating a difficult conversation with your spouse. When you’re stretched thin at work. When you’re wrestling with questions that shake your faith.
The Thin Space Where Growth Lives
Between too much and too little, there is a narrow space where real development happens. Athletes call it “the edge.” I think of it as the threshold where your capacity begins to evolve.
The wild part is that you usually don’t know you’re in that space until you’ve passed through it.
When I started working out a couple years ago, I avoided discomfort. I thought any pain was bad pain. I didn’t like how it felt, and I knew I was out of shape. No longer a young man by anyone’s reckoning, I worried about damaging myself. So I would back off as soon as I started to feel the burn. The result was minimal progress despite lots of effort.
But studying how to make my workouts more effective helped me understand the difference. Muscular discomfort is a sign of strength being built. Sharp, shooting pain is a red flag. That changed my perspective.
I still don’t like discomfort. But I have learned to trust it. The difference between doing a push-up and really getting down low where it burns is the difference between maintenance and growth.
The same is true in conversations that stretch us. In skills that challenge us. In ideas that unsettle us. The edge is not comfortable. But it is powerful.
Growth happens when resistance meets grace. By grace here, I don’t mean anything mystical. I’m talking about the patience and kindness we need to extend to ourselves in the struggle. I have seen this pattern repeatedly in my own life and in the lives of my clients. When we encounter resistance and respond with grace rather than retreat, transformation often follows. The resistance provides the stimulus. Grace, the gentle permission to be imperfect while trying, provides the space to absorb it. Without resistance we don’t get stronger. But without grace we break down into patterns of negativity and overthinking.
I’m not saying you should let yourself off the hook. In fact, I believe we are living in a culture that is too focused on safety and power dynamics. We spend too much time analyzing what’s holding us back and not enough time taking action.
But there is a place where pushing against difficulty and giving yourself permission to be human can coexist. That is the tension we should be looking for.
Hidden Progress
My wife made another observation about her yoga practice that stuck with me. Workouts that used to seem impossible are now easy—or at least easier. What once demanded her full concentration and left her shaking now feels steady and strong.
I can relate. Lifts or runs that used to wreck me are now warm-ups. But I couldn’t tell you when the shift happened. The change wasn’t dramatic. It was subtle. I just woke up one day and realized that something difficult had become normal.
You don’t notice yourself growing while you’re growing.
This applies across the board. Conversations that once felt impossibly vulnerable with your spouse become routine. Projects that once demanded your full bandwidth become manageable. Spiritual practices that once felt forced become rhythms you miss when they’re gone.
Your current baseline was once your greatest stretch. Your craziest goal will one day be your new baseline.
Sometimes when clients tell me they feel stuck, I ask them to look backward instead of forward. It’s one of the only times I do. Your formation is usually shaped more by your future than your past. But asking “What felt impossible six months ago that is completely normal now?” often reveals growth they didn’t even realize was happening.
If you feel like nothing’s changing, try that. Pause and remember what felt overwhelming last season. The gap between then and now is development.
This Too Will Change
I want to acknowledge something important. Not all discomfort leads to growth. Not all difficult seasons are “for your good.” Sometimes things just hurt.
Grief does not always transform you while you’re in it. A bad job doesn’t always build resilience. Chronic pain doesn’t always make you stronger. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” is not a universal truth.
In these situations, wisdom may look like stepping back. Rest instead of grinding. Ask for help instead of muscling through.
And even in those seasons, one truth remains. They don’t last forever. The acuteness fades. The rawness heals. The intensity shifts.
Over time, your capacity grows. Your discernment sharpens if you practice it. The weight that was crushing you in January might be your warm-up in June.
The hard stuff doesn’t disappear. But it does get absorbed. Every struggle quietly builds the muscle you’ll need for the next challenge.
I think of a friend who experienced a life-changing loss. At first, getting out of bed felt impossible. Making decisions was overwhelming. Every small task required enormous energy.
But the last time we spoke, I could see that my friend was stronger. No one would say the loss was worth it. But something had changed. They could now see things they were blind to before. Not because suffering is magical. Because strong people adapt. They just do.
Finding Your Edge
So how do you practically apply this? How do you find your edge without going too far?
I have spent years studying this threshold. Both in my own development and in my work helping others navigate theirs. Here are five questions I have found most helpful:
What are the physical and emotional signals?
Your body and mind have different languages for discomfort and pain. In physical challenges, discomfort feels like pressure or sustainable intensity. Pain brings sharper, more intrusive sensations. The same is true beyond the gym. In relationships, discomfort may feel like vulnerability or tension that leads to connection. Pain feels like persistent anxiety or emotional depletion. In career growth, good discomfort may appear as imposter syndrome or learning stress. Pain shows up as dread or misalignment. In creative work, discomfort is the frustration of reaching for a vision. Pain is the shutdown that keeps you from trying. Learn your signals. They are telling you something.What happens after the push?
The aftermath tells a story. In fitness, productive discomfort leads to adaptation. Real pain leads to injury. In relationships, working through discomfort builds connection. Enduring pain destroys well-being. In leadership, hard choices build confidence. Compromising values creates regret. Watch the patterns. They reveal your edge.What’s your recovery like?
The quality of your recovery reveals the quality of your effort. After good discomfort, you rebuild stronger. After pain, you often just return to baseline. Productive projects may drain you but leave you energized. Burnout leaves you hollow. Successful conflict resolution brings closeness. Harmful struggle leaves distance. Pay attention to where you land after the effort.What is your gut telling you?
Intuition is not everything, but it is something. Beneath all the noise is often a quiet voice that knows what matters. In fitness, that voice tells you whether to push or pause. In career decisions, it helps you sense alignment. In relationships, it distinguishes between hard and harmful. Listen closely.What would you tell someone you love?
Shift the frame. If someone you love was in your shoes, would you tell them to keep pushing or step back? Would you urge your child to stay in a job that drains them just to look strong? Would you advise your best friend to keep pursuing someone who disrespects them? The clarity of that third-person lens can break the spell of unrealistic expectations.
These questions will not give you perfect answers. But together, they build discernment.
Free Download: The Growth Stretch Tracker
The Growth Stretch Tracker is a reflection tool to help you navigate the edge between comfort and growth.
Each week, it prompts you to answer three questions:
What was challenging last month that feels easier now?
This helps you catch progress that might otherwise go unnoticed.What discomfort are you currently avoiding?
This points toward growth areas you may need to explore.What part of you is getting stronger in this season?
This helps you find meaning in challenge, even before the outcome is clear.
It’s not magic. But it is a discipline. And it works. Use it to see the link between discomfort and development in real time.
Learn to Discern
Nobody masters this overnight. You will get it wrong. I do too. Wisdom comes through experience. Through finding your edge, missing it, and returning to it.
You will retreat too early some days. You will push too far on others. That is part of the process.
The goal is not perfection. It is awareness. Better decisions. Greater resilience.
The space between comfort and collapse is where growth lives. It is where you become more than you were.
Maybe that yoga instructor was onto something bigger than she realized. “Push into discomfort, but ease back from pain.” Maybe that’s not just good advice for the mat, but wisdom for a life that keeps expanding.
Now go be great.
A Note from Andrew
Oh, irony. I have been writing this piece from a hotel in Pasadena, where I have just attended a conference. During my stay I have been faithful to my daily gym routine, and then. . . Yesterday, after my workout, I stretched my left calf. It felt a little tight. I pushed a little more, and wouldn’t you know it. I am now hobbling around like an even older guy than I am with a wounded left leg.
I did the right thing this morning and didn’t go to the gym. I’m taking a day to assess, to feel it out and to make sure I’m not going to injure myself further by pushing when I shouldn’t.
But if it’s not feeling good enough tomorrow, I’ll be back in the gym. I’ll just work my arms instead.
Sometimes, in pursuit of growth, you’re going to reach a little too far, and you’re going to hurt yourself. Adapt, flex, change plans but don’t stop moving forward! Wounds heal with time, but you have to maintain your trajectory somehow. You can do it, and so can I! I may just be a little slower for a few days.
P.S. If any part of this resonated, hit reply and let me know. Where are you currently sitting in productive discomfort? Where have you backed off too soon? I read and respond to every message.
P.P.S. Know someone who needs this perspective? Forward it their way. And if you want real support applying this in your own life, my next Momentum Sprint group coaching experience starts in June. Space is limited (I am only taking ten applicants this time), and a few spots are still available. As a Substack subscriber, you get a deep discount on this four-week experience. Message me if you want the details. We grow better together.