The Morning After: Finding Peace in the Struggle

It's not about poetry and prose as much as it's about presence.

This morning's coffee is different.

The air is different now. Thinner, crisper, calming. It carries the sweet smell of a dampened forest on the tail end of an arid August. The trees and plants regaining their stature. The last bloom before death, and suddenly the hummingbird appears. Flitting quickly through the morning light, it pauses inches from my face. Makes eye contact with me, and then bolts to finish its morning work of finding nectar — clearly unimpressed with my hummingbird feeder, because this is the first hummingbird I've seen all year.

A welcome and powerful spiritual reminder.

The Dawn Reclamation

These morning moments that I share so often with you are my favorite.

I much prefer the mornings over the length of the night.

The moments when I can take control of my mind, rather than leave it to its own subconscious devices.

I sleep well, but doing so is a surgical process. For as long as I can remember, I've always been a vibrant dreamer. More often than not, an innocent bystander to oppression. I think I've always had a strained relationship with my unconscious mind. My dreams are the battlefield.

Hence why I find so much relief in the morning mindfulness. There, I retake control of the rudder.

Struggle Without Suffering

I share all this not to claim the victim position but in the honest vulnerability that I, too, struggle. But I don't suffer.

To suffer is to want that which is otherwise. And I have come to appreciate the vibrancy of my subconscious mind.

There've been years, decades, of my life I was jealous of the droves of humans who can't even remember their dreams.

But now I appreciate them.

If nothing else, they serve as an impactful motivator to get up and moving in the morning. To reclaim control, and perhaps prove them wrong.

My dreams aren't nightmares of monsters and sharp objects. Mine look more like nightmares of failing and forgetfulness.

They remind me that I still have a strained relationship with my childhood. One where I'm still worried I’m no better. So I wake up in the morning to prove that I am.

The Universal Dualities

So how does all this help you?

Well, that I'm not so sure. I think I first write all this to show you you're not alone. Because I can tell you, I've felt very alone with this pattern.

Second, I write because there's potential in repositioning.

In this instance, I write of the dichotomy of dreams and wakefulness. Presence and unconsciousness.

But for all of us, there are other tugs of war, too. Boom or bust. Scarcity and abundance. Joy and fear. These paradoxical dualities are omnipresent in all lives. And the constant is desire.

I've never taken on a client who isn't in their own duality. Their own struggle. A tug of war of attention and appreciation. On one hand, things are good; on the other, things are bad. They land on my calendar hoping to lop off the bad hand.

“Help … ”

The Suffering Contract

This is where struggle turns to suffering.

They land on my calendar desiring things to be different. And for good reason, of course. Desire is the contract we make to suffer until we achieve what we are after.

And while generative drive is admirable (it's what makes us all the type of people we are), it has a nefarious cousin that looks dreadfully similar. It's called envy — and escape.

The vast majority of us are driven not by ecological pursuit but by mimetics. To escape the way things are for a more enviable alternative.

We make these desires with little consideration of the contractual obligation. Meaning we romanticize the outcome and wholly ignore the impending process.

And in my work, this is where I find most of you:

Stuck in the suffering, pursuing a desire, attempting to escape an unfavorable situation, envying an objective outcome.

The Path to Ecological Desire

My antidote?

Reframing — and reminding you of the contract you likely unknowingly signed.

After this awareness, we can then work on the next part: the desire itself. Why do you want what you want?

Is it because it seems to offer relief from a situation? Is it because you've seen others with it and their life looks better? Is it because you've seen others who weren’t sure what to do next, and it seemed logical?

Desire and generative drive aren't bad things. They are simply investments. And like all investments, they  usually require trading short-term struggle for long-term easy. But choose the wrong investment? The easy one? Then, you trade short-term easy for long-term hard.

So how do you know which is which?

Ecology.

The return on investment that is most important here is the one that improves your life.

The bad investments are mimetic, where the return looks like a copy of what someone else has.

This relegates us to a life of trading our own lives for the pursuits of others — and finding ourselves in perpetual escape and pursuit.

Wouldn’t you rather arrive?

The Reframe Revolution

It would be easy to will away my struggle of chaotic dreams. But this would relegate me to a life of suffering. Instead, I can ask: “How can I use them to help me?”

My mornings have become that answer. And the reason I can write these words to you all.

My dreams suck, but dare I say if not for them, you wouldn't be hearing from me today?

A reframe.

One where the investments are consistent and the outcomes ecological.

No life is without struggle. Suffering, however, is a choice.

The Alchemy of Adversity

What fascinates me most about this process of reframing is its transformative power. It's a form of personal alchemy: Turning what appears as base metal (our struggles) into gold (our strengths). This isn't mere positive thinking; it's a fundamental shift in how we relate to our experiences.

I've witnessed this transformation hundreds of times in my coaching practice. The entrepreneur whose perfectionism was crippling her business learned to reframe it as her commitment to excellence — not by ignoring the struggle, but by channeling it differently. The executive whose anxiety kept him awake at night reframed it as his radar system for detecting opportunities others missed.

This isn't about dismissing or minimizing our challenges. It's about asking a more powerful question: "How is this serving me?" rather than "How do I get rid of this?"

For me, those vivid, sometimes disturbing dreams aren't just random neural firings. They're messengers from parts of myself that need integration. They're the reason I've developed such a deep relationship with morning presence. They've shaped my entire approach to consciousness.

Had I successfully "cured" my dream state years ago when I desperately wanted to, I might have slept more peacefully, but at what cost? Would I have developed the same appreciation for present-moment awareness? Would I have cultivated the same skill in reclaiming my thoughts from chaos? Would I be writing these words to you now?

The Ecological Assessment

When I work with clients stuck in suffering, we begin with a simple but powerful assessment: Is your desire ecological or mimetic?

Ecological desires arise from your unique ecosystem: Your values, strengths, circumstances, and authentic aspirations. They feel resonant, even when challenging. They energize rather than deplete. They're meaningful even without external validation.

Mimetic desires, by contrast, are imported from outside your ecosystem. They're adopted because someone else values them. They often feel like "shoulds" rather than "wants." They require external validation to maintain their appeal. They energize briefly but deplete over time.

This assessment isn't about judging desires as good or bad, but about understanding their source and impact. Some mimetic desires can be integrated into our ecosystem and become ecological. Others remain foreign transplants that never quite take root.

One client realized her desire to build a seven-figure business was entirely mimetic, absorbed from the entrepreneurial culture she was immersed in. Her ecological desire was to create meaningful work that allowed significant presence with her family. The moment she recognized this distinction, her suffering diminished dramatically, even though her circumstances hadn't yet changed.

Another discovered that his desire for a specific type of recognition was mimetic, but his desire to make a lasting impact was deeply ecological. By focusing on the latter, the former ceased to cause suffering — and ironically, began to manifest naturally as a byproduct of his authentic work.

The Investment Perspective

Viewing desires as investments rather than entitlements creates a profound shift in our relationship with struggle. Investments require capital, patience, and understanding of the terms. They involve calculated risk. They're choices, not requirements.

When we treat our desires as investments, we naturally become more discerning. We ask better questions: What am I investing? (Time, energy, attention, resources.) What terms am I agreeing to? (Timeline, challenges, potential obstacles.) What return am I expecting? (Outcomes, experiences, growth.) Is this aligned with my portfolio? (Values, purpose, other commitments.)

This perspective transforms desires from sources of suffering into conscious choices. It puts us back in the driver's seat, even when the road is difficult.

I worked with an entrepreneur who was suffering immensely through the early stages of his business. He was investing everything — time, money, relationships — but had never consciously assessed the terms of this investment. When we mapped it out explicitly, he realized he'd never truly consented to the sacrifices he was making. This awareness gave him the clarity to either renegotiate the terms of his investment or recommit with full consciousness. He chose the latter, and while the challenges remained, his suffering diminished dramatically.

The Arrival Fallacy

Perhaps the most pervasive source of suffering I encounter is what psychologists call the arrival fallacy: the belief that when we reach a certain destination (achievement, acquisition, status), we'll finally feel complete. This fallacy keeps us perpetually pursuing without ever arriving.

I see this particularly in high-achievers who have reached multiple goals only to find the promised satisfaction fleeting. Each summit reveals another peak to climb. Each achievement spawns new desires. The horizon of "enough" continuously recedes.

The antidote isn't abandoning ambition, but developing the capacity for arrival in the present moment. It's learning to recognize that we're already where we need to be, even as we continue moving forward. It's understanding that fulfillment isn't waiting at some future destination — it's available only in our capacity to be fully present with what is.

This paradox — being completely at peace with what is while actively creating what could be — represents the integration of struggle without suffering. It's what allows us to pursue worthy challenges without making our happiness contingent on their outcome.

I practice this daily in my relationship with those troublesome dreams. I'm at peace with them as they are, appreciating their role in my consciousness, even as I continue developing practices that might someday transform them. Both states — acceptance and aspiration — exist simultaneously without contradiction.

The Ecological Investment

If I were to distill my approach to desire into a simple framework, it would be this: Make ecological investments with clear terms, then show up fully for both the struggle and the joy they entail.

Ecological investments align with your authentic nature rather than borrowed ambitions. They energize rather than deplete. They feel meaningful regardless of external validation. They create value beyond personal gain.

Clear terms mean understanding what you're committing to — not just the destination, but also the journey. It means acknowledging the challenges, constraints, and timeline involved. It means knowing what you're willing to risk and what's non-negotiable.

Showing up fully means bringing presence to both the difficulties and the delights along the way. It means neither bypassing the struggles nor missing the moments of beauty. It means remaining conscious of your choices rather than falling into automatic striving.

This framework doesn't eliminate struggle — nothing can or should. But it transforms our relationship with struggle from one of suffering to one of conscious engagement. It puts us back in conversation with our lives rather than at war with our circumstances.

As I sit here finishing my now-cold coffee, watching the morning light strengthen through the trees, I'm grateful for the struggles that shaped this perspective. I'm grateful even for those chaotic dreams that push me toward wakefulness. They've become not just challenges to overcome, but teachers to learn from.

Perhaps the hummingbird will return tomorrow, perhaps not. But I'll be here either way, present with whatever the morning brings — because I've learned that the real arrival isn't in some future free of struggle, but in making peace with the journey itself.

Transform Your Relationship with Desire

Are you caught in cycles of suffering, constantly pursuing desires that leave you feeling empty upon achievement? At Paradigm Collective, we help high-achievers transform their relationship with desire through our "Ecological Investment" framework.

Our approach doesn't ask you to abandon ambition — it helps you distinguish between ecological desires that energize and mimetic desires that deplete. Through our guided assessment process, you'll learn to identify which pursuits are truly aligned with your authentic nature and which are borrowed aspirations creating unnecessary suffering.

Ready to desire differently? Schedule an Ecological Desire Assessment where we'll help you map your current desires, identify their sources, and develop a personalized framework for pursuing ambitions that generate fulfillment rather than perpetual dissatisfaction.

Discover Your Ecological Desires →