Easy Is A Bad Signal

Maya Angelou once said, 'Easy writing is hard reading.'

As a prophetic poet and author, did Maya Angelou enjoy writing? She probably did.

But was writing hard for Maya Angelou? It appears that it was.

I find that paradox compelling.

This idea that things worth doing are not easy but actually difficult has stuck with me since reading a book called The Third Door by Alex Banayan.

In his book, Banayan shares insights from interviews he had with some of the world's highest achievers, from Bill Gates to Lady Gaga. Among them was Maya Angelou, and she offered this piece of advice:

"...what I do is not an easy thing. And I think that's true when any person begins doing what he or she wants to do and feels called to do."

This is the paradox that fascinates me. Life has never been easier, and we're conditioned to always find ways to make it easier, not harder.

But easy is not where the growth is. And it certainly isn't where the good stuff is.

Reflecting back on when I've grown or achieved something meaningful, I look back, sometimes fondly and other times not so fondly, and know that the experiences that shaped me have been the challenges I've faced and overcome.

One of these not-so-fond memories was losing my first million-dollar deal.

After months of work, I'd heard that my client was ready to sign, and I was so confident that I had my CFO sign the paperwork before I even boarded the plane to fly to Chicago. I expected a quick meeting with their Board, a "formality" my contact assured me, and then I would get the signature for a three-year, multi-million-dollar deal.

I'd already made plans for how I'd spend the commission.

Well, it didn't go that way. The Board meeting didn't turn out to be a formality. It was a final presentation that I didn't prepare for. Sensing my lack of preparation, one by one each Board member gave me a piece of their minds, and once all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room, I couldn't get out of there fast enough.

I'd planned to sip champagne to celebrate at the airport on the way home. I wound up downing three pints of Bud Light at the O'Hare airport bar in shocked silence.

The last thing I wanted to do was step foot back into my office on Monday. I'd have to hand back the unsigned contract, and losing a deal of this size meant not only was I going to miss my target for the year, but our team was going to miss theirs. It was personally devastating and publicly humiliating.

But this one experience shaped everything I've done professionally ever since. Many of the successes I've had would never have happened if I hadn't lost that first big deal. It humbled me, and I've never shown up to an important conversation unprepared again.

Getting back to work after losing that deal was not easy. I struggled for years with my confidence and battled deep anxiety. Even after I found success again, this failure hung over me, and I wanted to abandon the industry altogether.

But for some reason, I stayed with it. It wasn't easy, but I did it. And only looking back at this experience can I say how glad I am that I stuck with it.

In his book The Obstacle Is the Way, Ryan Holiday tells a story that gets at this same idea of the easy path being the wrong path to take.

An ancient emperor who led a kingdom where life was good noticed his people were thriving, but he worried they were becoming complacent and soft.

One night, he had a gigantic boulder dropped in the middle of a main road leading to the city's market. This road would have been where all traffic flowed each day. After setting the obstacle, he hid himself and watched, and was dismayed by what he saw.

In the morning, as people encountered the rock, they'd grow frustrated and curse their bad luck, but would then start exploring other routes to get to the market. All day, people came, saw the rock, and shrugged, seeking another route to get to their destination. Sometimes it would take hours longer to arrive, and others simply abandoned their goods along the way.

But late in the day, a young merchant encountered the rock and instead of turning back, rallied a small group of others, found some large boards, and removed the boulder, clearing the path to the market. To his surprise, under the stone was a hole filled with gold coins.

Obstacles present themselves to each of us every day, big and small, and how we respond to them matters. The pot of gold for me turned out to be the resilience I learned from sticking with it after failure. It was instrumental in what I faced in 2020 and in the work we do today.

Here’s the thing: we don’t avoid obstacles because they’re impossible or because we're lazy. We avoid them because they violate how we think progress should feel.

We're conditioned to think things should be easy: fast food, fast internet connections, fast customer service. It's baked into everything we see.

"Easy is a bad signal" doesn't mean we should seek out hard things or intentionally make our lives harder than they need to be. Life is hard enough. We don't need to try to make it harder.

But when we encounter an obstacle, it is worth taking a moment to consider how we react to it.

The next time you hit an obstacle, take a step back and ask yourself: is the easy path the best one, or is it just easier?

Consider the alternative. Is the obstacle you're facing an opportunity for you to learn something new? Is there a pot of gold on the other side of removing it?

Easy isn't just a bad signal. It's a bad teacher.

Easy writing is really hard reading.

Easy living makes for really shallow growth.