The Right Kind of Pain

From Prometheus having his liver pecked out for stealing divine tech, to Camus asking us to imagine Sisyphus grinning through eternal punishment, humans have always sought to transform suffering into meaning. Our history, art, and gym playlists are steeped in it.

Religions frame pain as a passage. Think Jesus on the cross. Muhammad in the cave. Fasting in almost every spiritual tradition. In the modern age? We’ve just rebranded it.

Enter hustle culture, ultra-endurance masochism, and the dopamine-depleted entrepreneur who brags about four hours of sleep and a VO₂ max of 60.

We don’t just endure pain. We assign it value. Sometimes blindly.

The Right Kind of Hurt

There’s an age (maybe our 20s) when grinding feels like proof of life. If it doesn’t burn, it doesn’t count. Pain becomes a receipt. A medal. 

By our 30s, a few hard-earned truths arrive, often after our first slipped disc or third burnout. We start asking: Is this pain productive, or just a pattern?

Emotional numbness isn’t stoicism, no matter what TikTokTeens tell you. Poor range of motion isn’t impressive. Just because something is hard doesn’t mean it helps.

As we age out of struggle for the sake of it, comfort becomes the aspiration. We earn a little more money. We're no longer the bottom rung of the ladder at work. Might have a relationship... Bit by bit, peace takes priority over pain.

Then we get lazy, safe and frustrated. 

Productive pain, that’s a prize. Hurt from habit alone, that’s a hindrance.

Purposeful or Per Chance?

Choosing to run an ultramarathon on a Saturday is a choice. Being consumed by self-doubt, anxiety or chronic fatigue when your values misalign… that’s different.

This is the eudaimonic vs. hedonic split.

Hedonic well-being (Kahneman, 1999): chasing comfort, pleasure, and momentary highs.

Eudaimonic well-being (Waterman, 1993): aligning with purpose, truth, and inner coherence, often found through challenge.

Both matter. Both lead to different kinds of pain and contentment.

Hedonic originates from the word hēdone or "pleasure". Eudaimonic combines eu, meaning “well,” and daimon, meaning “spirit”—essentially, aligning our actions with our soul.

There’s a difference between the pain we choose and the pain we inherit.

You’re Not Lazy. You’re Numb

High performers are brilliant at overriding pain. Until it backfires.

We don’t skip the gym because we’re weak. We skip it because our nervous system’s cooked. We’re not zoning out of meetings because we’re undisciplined; we’re low-key (or high-key) in emotional shutdown.

A certain type of person would say this is pathologising the regular. There’s been a lot of talk about therapy-speak ruining our perspective. Whilst there’s merit in that point, there’s also a tendency amongst high achievers to minimise their hardship personally and valorise it publicly.

Pursuing eudaimonic well-being is accepting pain when there’s a purpose for it. When we stray from our innate desires, we experience “spiritual pain,” a term coined by Dame Cicely Saunders, founder of the modern hospice movement. It describes a desolate feeling of meaninglessness that amplifies all other forms of suffering.

The body can't heal if the soul is starving.

When we mistake intensity for intent, the body will slow down before we implode. It's a survival mechanism; pointless pain in place of purpose.

The Question That Changes Everything

Is your suffering meaningful, or just familiar?

Camus told us, “We must imagine Sisyphus happy.” But should we?

For those unfamiliar, the abridged version of Sisyphus is that he was punished to roll a boulder up a hill for eternity. Once it got to the top, it rolled back down. Ostensibly, atonement for his sins.

He continued to push, reset, push, reset ad infinitum. He’s still doing it now, so the myth goes.

Was he fulfilled… or institutionalised? 

Modern life is dulling our sense of agency. We roll metaphoric boulders all the time: pointless Teams calls, reports nobody reads, workouts we hate, time with people we loathe, late nights for no reason.

Is your pain taking you anywhere? Or are you addicted to the struggle for the sake of it?

Information, Not an Obstacle

Pain isn’t the enemy. It’s data. Our bodies talk all the time, but we’re too busy to listen.

Acute pain? A clear signal.
Chronic ache? A warning flare.
Emotional volatility? Possibly an overwhelmed HPA axis or accumulated stress hormones clouding your prefrontal cortex.

When performing at a high level, the goal isn’t to avoid discomfort. It’s to decode it. Success emerges in the rebuild post-chaos, not in the avoidance of it.

Every day, something is thrown at you, an injury, betrayal or missed opportunity. How you navigate what happens next is what separates growth from stagnation.

Choose the pain that makes you stronger. The kind that has a map.