The Strange Reason Why Life is Hard

And Why It Isn’t in the Rest of Nature

When was the last time you stopped to really watch the world around you? Maybe it was birds riding the wind with perfect precision, or the steady rhythm of waves breaking on the shore. Perhaps it was a tree, standing firm while swaying in the wind.

If you pause long enough, you’ll notice something remarkable: everything in nature seems to move with ease. Life doesn’t hesitate, argue with itself, or demand that the moment be different to what it is. It simply flows along.

Dolphins don’t anxiously plan how many fish they’ll need to catch tomorrow. Flowers don’t hold meetings with themselves to decide whether to bloom today or wait until conditions are more favorable. Rivers don’t second-guess whether they’re taking the right path to the sea. They all respond directly to what is here, right now.

And in doing so, they thrive.

The Human Exception

Humans are the only species where struggle seems constant. We wrestle with decisions, feel trapped in stress, and often live with a nagging sense that something is wrong. Why?

The reason is that because unlike the rest of nature, we don’t just live life. Instead, we tell stories about it. We’re constantly in our heads, mentally describing in words what we think is going on and how to deal with it. We’re labelling, analysing, strategising and planning. On and on, without a break or pause.

Language gave us a powerful tool: this ability to describe, imagine, and plan. On the surface, that seems like an advantage. We can think about tomorrow, analyze yesterday, and map out what we believe will keep us safe.

But there’s a hidden cost. Most of our stress doesn’t come from life itself. It comes from the stories we invent with words.

Stories as Struggle

Take a moment to consider this: Whatever is weighing on you right now - a relationship that feels strained, money pressures, or a sense that life simply isn’t going the way you hoped - ask yourself: is it the situation itself that hurts, or the meaning (the story) you’ve attached to it?

The story might sound like:

  • “This shouldn’t have happened to me.”

  • “I’ll never find my way through this.”

  • “If only things were different, then I could finally relax.”

Notice how those sentences feel in your body. Heavy. Tight. And endless.

Meanwhile, reality - the actual moment you’re in - is still unfolding as it always has. The sun still rises. The air still moves in and out of your lungs. Life itself hasn’t abandoned you. The struggle begins only when the story takes hold.

Letting the Story Go

Here’s the turning point: once you see that your struggle exists inside the story, you can start to let the story go.

What happens then is almost magical. Your natural instincts - the same deep intelligence that guides every other species - begin to switch back on. Decisions that once seemed complicated become clearer. Energy that felt stuck begins to flow again. Instead of dragging yourself forward with constant worry or regret, you find yourself moving with the same ease you see in the rest of nature.

It isn’t that life suddenly becomes problem-free. It’s that you stop adding layers of imagined weight to what is already here. Without the story, the present becomes lighter, and so do you.

A Simple Challenge

So here’s something to try this week. The next time you feel tension rising, pause and ask:

“What story am I telling myself right now?”

It might be about how someone should treat you, what you must achieve, or why things should be different. See it for what it is - just a story. Then, even for a moment, set it aside. Notice what remains when you’re simply here, like the birds, the trees, and the waves.

That space beyond the story is where your real life is waiting.

And it’s where thriving - the kind you were designed for - begins.


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