It’s Supposed To Be Hard (Learning To Not Be Spoiled)

In the 2017 NBA playoffs, microphones caught Coach Kerr telling Steph Curry, “Pop, who was like my mentor, would always tell us in these situations: It’s supposed to be hard.”

It’s supposed to be hard.

This is the advice I need. I need a Coach Kerr, walking with me throughout my day telling me the same thing, “it’s supposed to be hard.”

In his classic book, The Road Less Traveled, M. Scott Peck says, “Life is difficult. This is a great truth, one of the greatest truths. It is a great truth because once we truly see this truth, we transcend it. Once we truly know that life is difficult-once we truly understand and accept it-then life is no longer difficult. Because once it is accepted, the fact that life is difficult no longer matters.”

When we acknowledge the difficulty of life, we can face it with the right amount of grit and determination. We can prepare ourselves mentally for the challenge to come and the battle that will take place. When we expect something to be hard, we are more likely to muster up the energy and focus needed. When we expect something to be easy and it isn’t, we get defeated or disengaged.

I have a problem though, I want life to be easy.

I want my kids to listen to my every word and behave perfectly. I want to be successful in my job on talent alone. I want to be trim and fit but I also want to eat a bowl of popcorn every night.

Years ago, I was leading some middle school students in a serving project — painting a homeless shelter, packing meals and handing them out. One kid, who tested pretty high on the “spoiled spectrum,” had a hard time doing the manual labor. He made it through the morning but then collapsed on the floor, exhausted from a grueling few hours of painting in the cool shade. We had made the students sandwiches and he asked what kinds we had. I told him the options were turkey, PB & J, or ham. He then said a phrase that I still repeat to this day. He sighed loudly, looked off into the distance and with a defeated voice said, “none of my favorites.”

On occasion, when my wife presents me with several, adequate food options, I will sigh, look off into the distance, and say, “none of my favorites.”

For many of us in America, life is fairly easy. We get what we want (food, entertainment, clothing) and we get it when we want it (fast food, Netflix, Amazon Prime.)

If we’re not careful, we can live our lives like spoiled children.

We want things how we want it and when we want it because that’s what we deserve. If we don’t get what we want, it’s not fair — we pout, we quit. I’m embarrassed to admit it but I do this a lot. I’ve started and quit several exercise and eating programs in the last few years. I start writing for a few weeks, then I quit. I want to travel more but it takes planning and saving.

Tell me again, Coach, I need to hear it. Give it to me. “It’s supposed to be hard.”

Anything worth doing is going to be hard. Anything that brings value to the world and creates change will be hard.

That creative project? It’s supposed to be hard. You are creating new life and giving birth to something — ask anybody who has given birth, it’s not easy.

• Gaining muscle, losing fat — hard.
• Balancing a job with being an active parent — hard.
• Spiritual growth and transformation — hard.
• Relationships (conflict, boundaries, the chance of heartbreak) — hard.

Grit

Angela Duckworth made famous the word we hear a lot these days — the word, “grit.” She defines grit as, “passion and perseverance for long-term goals.” Persevering through the difficulties. Grinding and working, when it would be easier to quit.

When it comes to grit, I think of my grandpa. He was the only child out of 5 to go to college and he had to hitchhike to get there. He is a quiet man who wakes up every morning and goes to work. He’s almost 90 and still works on the properties that he owns. It’s not easy work either. I worked with him one summer in college and would collapse in the air conditioning at the end of the day. He’s never been rich but he is wise with his money. He doesn’t buy much, except for an occasional car for grandma. The money he doesn’t save or invest, he gives to others. He is the most generous person I know.

Maybe I don’t need a Coach Kerr. Maybe I need to look at my grandpa — he was a basketball coach, after all. I need to learn from those who have come before. To go about my life with a quiet perseverance and grit. He, like many of his generation, understood this deep principle.

When you get out of bed in the morning, you take a moment to remember — it’s not supposed to be easy. It’s supposed to be hard.

Then, you get back in the game.

Thanks, Coach.