There’s a myth circulating in creative circles that once you find your true calling, everything will flow effortlessly. I bought into it, too. For decades, I waited for the ‘perfect’ conditions, for the nagging uncertainty and self-doubt to subside before I truly committed. But the truth is, meaningful work often asks us to sustain a much longer relationship with unease than we anticipate. It’s in this space that a vital skill emerges, one that can make or break our most ambitious projects: distress tolerance. The good news is that, like most skills, this is one you can build and cultivate.
What we get out of life is not determined by the good feelings we desire, but by what bad feelings we’re willing and able to sustain to get us to those good feelings.—Mark Manson
How to Feel Better While You Create Whatever You Want
Soon after we begin walking a new, creative road, we realize that we are being asked to sustain a longer relationship with discomfort than we expected.
The uncertainty. The self-doubt that shows up uninvited. The work that does not (yet) sparkle.
These are the toll roads of meaningful creation. To navigate them, every entrepreneur who has built something substantial has had to learn how to breathe while feeling these sensations, rather than trying to outrun them—the vital skill known as distress tolerance.
I did not understand this at the beginning of my entrepreneurial journey 30 years ago.
Early on, I believed that once I found the right idea or the right rhythm, the process would feel smoother, and the discomfort would simply disappear. I kept waiting for a sense of ease to arrive before fully committing (effectively avoiding the very experiences that build distress tolerance). Each step forward came with hope that the next one would feel lighter.
Instead, I continued to feel anchored to the base of a wall that soared above my head, impossible to climb.
The lack of self-trust lingered. Momentum was slow. I questioned myself constantly, wondering why it seemed harder for me than it appeared for others.
Exhaustion came from resisting the unease, from postponing action until I felt more certain—a common trap when our distress tolerance is low, leading us to avoid rather than engage with challenges.
Energy drained as each step required ongoing, internal negotiation. My spirit and body tired of constant resistance.
For a long time, I tried to manage the discomfort away. I searched for reassurance, clearer signals, and inadvertently hindered my capacity for this vital skill.
What I did not realize was how much energy I was spending trying to make the journey comfortable instead of letting it be what it was.
The work itself was not draining me. The resistance to how it felt was.
We’re often told we need more willpower. What we really need is a deeper capacity and willingness to stay present and in motion while things feel (or are) unresolved—in other words, stronger distress tolerance.
To keep writing when the sentences sound clumsy. To keep shipping when the response is muted. To keep building when progress is minute.
My footing began to form when I stopped asking the process to change and started asking myself to stay, despite the discomfort I was feeling.
I stayed with the discomfort. Stayed with the uncertainty. Stayed with the work even when it wasn’t anywhere near my vision and felt impossible to corral into something coherent.
Slowly, momentum emerged. The path did become a bit easier, but more importantly, I became more capable of walking it.
Every meaningful pursuit asks for this shift.
Start Building Your Capacity to Tolerate Distress
And now, as I embark upon my most ambitious project yet, I am being reminded of these lessons once more.
If you are in the weeds of uncertainty and stuckness right now, here’s a journaling exercise to help you transmute resistance into forward motion. It is designed to help you practice and build your distress tolerance, transforming challenging feelings into catalysts for growth.
First, choose one area of your creative or entrepreneurial life where you are feeling discomfort, resistance, or overwhelm.
Next, write the answers to the following, slowly and honestly:
- What exactly does this discomfort feel like in my body right now? Where in my body do I feel it?
- If I stopped trying to eliminate this feeling and instead partnered with it, what small action could I take this week?
- How would I treat this discomfort if I believed it was a sign of growth rather than a problem to solve?
End by completing this sentence in your own words: “This discomfort is here to teach me how to become someone who can ______.”
We get to choose which weight we are willing to carry, the weight of effort or the weight of regret. At the end of our lives, it is rarely the risks we took that haunt us, but the moments we stayed “safe” when our hearts and souls were begging us to move. To make. To matter.
Regret is the toxic residue of a life spent postponing our own becoming.
We finally feel relief when we stop demanding that the process always feel good and look perfect. and expand our distress tolerance.
We feel more alive, more aligned, and unmistakably in motion. Uncertainty no longer stops us.
We learn to recognize it, nod quietly, and keep going, letting it come along for the ride.
