Ease Doesn't Mean Easy

Moving Past “I Can’t” and “I Don’t” to Navigate Life with More Grace and Confidence

I'm continuing to experiment with audio, so I've provided both the voiceover (above) and transcript (below).

I've never been one to force a word of the year. Some people choose theirs right on January 1st with clarity and conviction. I admire that. It's just not my way. For me, the word tends to find me when the time is right. Whether that's in January, June, or somewhere in between.

At the end of 2024, the word that came to me was ease. I realized I wanted more ease in my life. But the word pricked at my overachiever tendencies. My mind jumped to:

Nope. I need to work hard to struggle, do more, be more, and exceed expectations.

And then I realized that ease isn't about avoiding hard things. It's about how we approach them.

Ease doesn't mean easy.

Ease is doing things without unnecessary difficulty. Easy is having no difficulty at all.

Easy is about setting the difficulty level to its lowest setting. Whereas ease is about how we traverse the difficulties we face, no matter the level.

And listen, there is nothing wrong with easy. Sometimes, we need the easy wins, the low bars, and the straightforward "I can do this in my sleep" tasks.

Easy can be a relief when life feels heavy. But too much easy, that's where things get tricky. It can leave us stagnant, bored, and, if you're anything like me, restless.

When we keep setting the bar to its lowest level everything else starts to feel like the ultimate hard mode. And before we even begin, we stop ourselves with all the reasons why we just can't.

I can't do that because I've never done it before.

I can't do that because I have done it before. I tried, and I failed.

I can't do that until I've completed X, Y, Z A, B, C the entire alphabet. And back again.

I can't do that because I'm not sure where to start.

I can't do that because I'm not sure what the right way to start is.

I can't do that because it looks hard. It looks scary. It looks impossible.

I can't do that because I can't see the full picture.

I can't do that because what will people think if I fail?

What will they think if I succeed?

I can't do that because that's not who I am. It's not how I see myself. It's not how other people see me.

I can't do that because somebody else will do it.

I can't do that because somebody else has done it.

I can't do it because I don't know how.

I can't do it because I don't know who I'll be after.

I can't do it because it's not my responsibility.

Because the conditions aren't exactly right.

Because it's just easier not to.

I can't do it.

How many times a day do we tell ourselves some version of, I can't?

How many times a day do we keep ourselves small, ignoring that little voice, that feeling that urge. How many times do we trample it? Dampen it? Stifle it?

The problem is I can't often turns into something even harder to confront. It becomes, I don't.

I don't start because I'm afraid I'll fail.

I don't try because what if it doesn't work? Or worse. What if it does?

I don't explore because staying where I am feels safer.

I don't ask for help because I should be able to figure it out on my own.

I don't speak up because what if people think I'm wrong?

I don't finish because I'm not sure it'll be good enough.

I don't because…

…because I don't trust myself.

All these stories of why we can't, all the quote-unquote reasons we don't, they boil down to trust.

Trust in our abilities, trust in our resilience, trust in our capacity to figure it out along the way.

Without trust, ease feels impossible. Because we don't believe we'll find a way through.

And once you see that lack of trust for what it is, you can't unsee it. That's the hard part. That's the good part.

Because once you recognize it, you can start working on the real reason behind why you're stuck. It's not about the external obstacles. It's about learning to trust yourself enough to take the next step, even when the doubt creeps in.

I'm feeling that right now, even as I write this piece. The resistance, the what ifs? The not trusting that what I have to say is good enough. Not trusting that it will be okay if it doesn't land. Not trusting that I can put it out there without a million caveats, just in case someone interprets it differently than I mean.

But here's the thing: recognizing the resistance doesn't mean making it harder than it needs to be. It's about acknowledging that difficulty exists and finding a way to navigate it with ease.

Trusting myself to adjust where it feels right or to leave it as it is and keep on moving.

And maybe that's what this year is about for me, not just ease, but also trust.

Ease as a reminder to not make things harder than they need to be. To let go of unnecessary struggle and give myself permission to move through life with more grace.

And trust as the foundation that allows for that ease. Trusting that when I do face difficulty — and I know I will — I can find a way to navigate through it.

Trusting that I don't need to have all the answers upfront and that'll figure it out along the way.

You don't need to have a word of the year to get started. Don't let that become yet another cant that turns into a don't. But if it helps. What about you? Is there a word or a theme guiding you this year? Where are you still waiting for it to find you? And if you're unsure, maybe try on ease or trust, or maybe both.

This isn't really about choosing a word. It's about recognizing and acknowledging the stories we put in our way. It's the can’ts that stop us before we even try. The don'ts that mean we don't move forward.

Where have you been letting a can't turn into a don't?

How might you approach it with a little more ease? How might you honor your abilities, your resilience, and what you can do? And insert a little more trust into the mix?

Ease and trust. Not just words, but reminders: to not make things harder than they need to be.

To believe that even when things are difficult, you have what it takes to find a way through.