As they say on Wall Street, past results do not predict future performance. But the past does offer some data for judging the probabilities of what might happen in the future. There’s a nuance here. Our experiences help us make sense of what we might face in the future. Some of these experiences are an outlier and likely won’t happen ever again no matter how long this finite universe persists. However, those outliers can be hugely informative for our psyches. 

For example, if a previous business partner was corrupt, it might make you overly skeptical of new business ideas to the point where you miss opportunities. If you experienced a bad romantic relationship, your metaphorically folded arms might spook away a decent person from entering your life. If you fail to dig into what past events may trigger defensive emotions, it can be virtually impossible to improve your life. The past can inform your future, but don’t let it control your future. 

Don’t’ get me wrong. I’m not suggesting you dismiss any emotion that threatens to hold you back. Anxiety is the one emotion that never lies, so it’s important to pause and analyze why it might be popping up on a first date or just before you enter that boardroom to present a pitch. Anxiety might be warning you of a nearby danger, based on past experiences. 

On the other hand, that anxious feeling could be part of your ego’s elaborate system of procrastination to keep you stuck. Success demands you learn the tools to figure out what’s really going on. Some people have told me that my disability wasn’t so big of a deal. I despise those conversations because my disability is real and it affects me. The same is true for your anxiety. It arrives for a reason, and it should be placed into context so that you can figure out how to move forward. 

Although my life is challenging, I don’t like to use the word hard. Life is hard for everyone, so I don’t think any single person has some special ownership of that word. I have amazing parents, wonderful people in my life and live in dreamy southern California where there is regular sunshine and awesome food. I was never abused or bullied while growing up and neither have I felt what it’s like to starve (hungry is not starving). My disability can be difficult to deal with from time to time, but calling my life hard is disrespectful to the blessings that surround me. 

I would encourage you to scoop out the word “hard” from your brain. When you say something is hard, it creates an emotion which acts like a figurative stop sign. Hard implies whatever it is will stop you from achieving a dream. As the great Harvey Specter from the TV show Suits once quipped, when someone has a gun pointed to your head, there are 1000 ways to get out of that situation and win. It only appears to be a “hard” problem when you let emotions control your brain. 

This is not to say bad situations won’t happen. My disability sucks. It’s challenging and emotionally exhausting to constantly ask for help. My brain often wants to do something, but my body says, “no, we’re not doing that.” Yet, what exactly will be solved if I put everything into the bucket of “it’s hard”? Nothing, that’s what. 

So, instead of using the word hard, replace it with “challenging.” What’s amazing about the power of words is that picking another one is often all it takes to get moving towards your dreams. Calling customer service isn’t “hard.” But it might be frustrating, tedious, tiring, overwhelming, sapping or challenging. The trick is in reframing the issues until it reveals a way out, past, through or over the problem. 

I don’t like the word “easy” for the same reasons. By calling things easy, you risk running life on autopilot and not holding yourself or others to account. Suddenly, your “easy” life is a series of routines and no situation is special. “Easy” does not lead to better. 

Improving your life means noticing when you’re in a routine and grasping the opportunities for improvement. This means putting in some extra effort to make every situation amazing, rather than easy. When a friend calls you, answer the phone with enthusiasm. When a colleague needs something, don’t just hand them the stapler, offer to help finish the report. An “easy” life is rusty life. Mixing things up is grabbing the wire brush and knocking off that scratchy buildup. 

So, when people say, “your disability must be hard,” how do I respond to that? I tell them that it’s just work. My disability isn’t good or bad, but my average day requires more effort than most people’s. It’s a challenge. But I learned long ago how to let the feelings of despair and frustration flow over me briefly, and then move on. I learned emotional discipline.