
A few weeks ago, I watched a scene unfold that hasn’t left me.
Two people—both exhausted, both under pressure—snapped at each other in a meeting. It started small: a clipped tone here, an eye roll there, a comment that landed a little too sharp. Within minutes, the room felt heavier. Shoulders tightened. People checked out. The work didn’t suddenly get harder, but it felt harder, because the people side of it got messy.
A few days later, I had a very different moment. Same company. Same pressures. Same imperfect people. But this time I watched two teammates lean in, ask clarifying questions, own their part, and laugh together on the way out the door. Nothing in our circumstances had changed. The difference was simple but profound:
In the first meeting, people were difficult… and we resented it.
In the second, people were difficult… and we extended grace anyway.
That’s when this quote from Ryan Leak’s Leveling Up grabbed hold of me:
“Life is difficult. Enjoy it anyway.
People are difficult. Enjoy them anyway.
I know we might think we need to wait for ideal circumstances and people to come around before we can start enjoying them, but ideal isn’t coming.”
That last line is the gut punch: “ideal isn’t coming.”
Most of us are waiting on some version of “ideal” before we let ourselves live with joy, extend grace, or reconnect with people we’ve drifted from. We’re waiting for:
But ideal isn’t coming.
If we keep waiting for perfect circumstances and perfect people, we’ll wait our whole lives—and miss the joy that’s available in the middle of the mess.
If we’re honest, a lot of us are tired.
Some of you are carrying heavy loads at home—health scares, aging parents, financial stress, kids struggling, marriages under strain. Others are carrying stress at work—deadlines, demanding projects, complex customers, and the weight of wanting to do excellent work every single day.
When life feels like that, it’s easier to pull back than to press in:
And yet—underneath the busyness and withdrawal—there’s an ache:
We want to be known and loved as we are.
We want to feel joy again, not just grind.
We want relationships that are strong enough to survive difficulty, not just exist when everything is smooth.
We don’t need more information about how life is hard. We know that. What we need is a different way to live in a hard life.
American culture doesn’t help us here.
Our culture whispers (and sometimes shouts):
The result? We chase a utopia that doesn’t exist—a life, a workplace, a group of people who never frustrate, disappoint, or stretch us.
But here’s the problem: the most meaningful research we have tells a different story.
An 85‑year Harvard study on adult development—one of the longest studies ever conducted—concluded that positive relationships are the single strongest predictor of long‑term happiness and health, more than career achievement, money, exercise, or diet.
At the same time, we pour huge amounts of our attention into things that don’t deepen relationships or joy. You know the average person spends hours a day on screens, primarily consuming entertainment. Our screen-time habits make it easy to escape life, but harder to enjoy real people in real time.
Our culture trains us to:
instead of learning to enjoy an imperfect life with imperfect people… right now.
So how do we actually live Ryan Leak’s advice inside the real world of business, families, and everyday pressures?
I see three shifts we can make—starting this month.
Everyone you meet today is fighting a battle you can’t see.
That teammate who snapped at you might be running on two hours of sleep because of a sick child. The coworker who seems distracted might be waiting on a medical test result. The person who is “always negative” may be carrying a weight they’ve never named out loud.
Grace doesn’t mean we ignore problems or avoid hard conversations. It means we start with generosity instead of suspicion.
Before you assume the worst, ask yourself:
In previous messages we’ve talked about refusing to let mistakes or failures define us as people. In the same way, let’s refuse to let a frustrating moment define someone else in our own minds. Grace says, “I see your humanity. I know you’re more than your worst day.”
If we’re honest, most of us can name at least one person we’ve quietly stepped away from:
Distance feels safer than dealing with discomfort. But distance also starves us of the deep relationships we were made for.
We’ve shared before about that Harvard study and other research that points to the same conclusion: relationships are not a “nice to have;” they are core to a healthy, meaningful life.
So here’s a challenge:
Before this month ends, reach out to one person you’ve been avoiding.
You don’t have to fix everything in one conversation. You don’t have to agree on all the details. You simply have to move toward instead of away. A text. A coffee. An honest, humble, “Hey, I miss you. Can we talk?”
You might be surprised how much relief and joy that small step creates—for them and for you.
Joy isn’t the same as denial.
Joy doesn’t pretend life is easy. It doesn’t ignore real grief, stress, or injustice. Joy looks directly at difficulty and says, “Even here, there is something good, and I refuse to let the hard parts blind me to it.”
In past newsletters, we’ve talked about the power of celebration—how intentionally noticing goodness helps us endure trials with a steadier heart. The same principle applies here.
Practicing joy can be as simple as:
Life is difficult. But difficulty doesn’t get the final word unless we hand it the microphone.
Let’s say it plainly: there is no perfect company, perfect family, or perfect life.
Utopia isn’t coming.
But something better can grow: a community where people tell the truth, own their part, extend grace quickly, repair relationships when they’re strained, and keep choosing joy even when nothing is tidy. Our job now is not to wait for “ideal” to finally arrive. Our job is to live differently in the middle of non‑ideal.
I don’t want this to be just another encouraging message you read and forget. Here are some very practical ways to “enjoy anyway” this month:
This trains your eyes to see joy without waiting for the hard thing to disappear.
Life is difficult. People are difficult. That’s not a sign that something has gone wrong; it’s a sign that we live in the real world.
What will set us apar is not that we escape difficulty or finally find the “perfect” situation. What will set us apart is that we choose to enjoy anyway:
My hope for us this month is simple:
That we become people who don’t need perfect circumstances or perfect people to live with joy, courage, and connection.
Life is difficult. Enjoy it anyway.
People are difficult. Enjoy them anyway.
Ideal isn’t coming—
but joy can, starting with us.
PGRIT,
Shaun