Let me guess your future. I’m sorry, but it probably won’t change dramatically.
Not because you’re incapable.
Not because you’re unlucky.
Not because you haven’t read enough books, listened to enough podcasts, or spent enough time thinking about your next move.
It probably won’t change because you’ll keep doing what you’ve always done.
You’ll keep repeating the same patterns.
The same excuses.
The same exits.
The same escape routes.
And each time, you’ll convince yourself that this time is different.
“It wasn’t the right fit.”
“The timing wasn’t right.”
“I need to do more research.”
“Maybe there’s something better.”
The problem is that sometimes we’re not actually making a conscious decision. We’re simply following a familiar pattern.
A pattern of escaping discomfort. I know because I’ve done it for most of my life.
Every Semester, I Said I Wanted to Quit
Looking back, I don’t think university taught me knowledge as much as it taught me endurance. Every semester, I wanted to quit. Every semester, I found reasons to leave. Yet what changed me was not intelligence or talent. It was staying.
The Buddha once said, “Patient endurance is the highest austerity.” We might say that transformation often comes not from intensity, but from remaining present when everything in us wants to run away.
Every semester at university, I considered dropping out. Like clockwork. The tuition invoice would arrive, and suddenly I would find ten decent reasons why leaving made sense.
The #1 reason, I told myself it was because I couldn’t afford it. And yes, finances were a real concern. But if I’m honest, money wasn’t the whole story. The real issue was that everything felt incredibly difficult.
Studying in a foreign country on my own was a lonely and difficult journey. Learning Business and International Relations in English, which was not my native language, often felt overwhelming and, at times, devastating.
While other students seemed to skim through readings and perform well, I had to read the same chapter three or four times just to understand what was happening. Every assignment took longer.
Every essay felt harder.
Every class discussion required more courage.
I remember one English writing class during my very first semester. I became so frustrated that I ended up crying in front of my professor. Not because of a bad grade. Because I couldn’t organize my thoughts. I couldn’t articulate my logic and ideas the way I wanted to.
I knew what I wanted to say, how I wanted to develop the argument in writing, but I was stuck. I felt stupid. I felt behind and embarrassed. This was long before Grammarly, ChatGPT, AI writing assistants, and automatic correction tools. It was just me, a blank screen, and an overwhelming feeling that everyone else was somehow smarter than I was.
Every semester, quitting seemed like the easiest solution. But the real challenge wasn’t tuition.
The real challenge was commitment. The real challenge was staying despite these layers of challenging moments.
The Weekend I Almost Walked Out
Years later—at least I had become comfortable speaking and using English (yes, by then, I had become somewhat Canadianized)—I found that the same pattern had returned. Once again, I desperately wanted to leave.
A friend convinced me to join a 48-hour filmmaking competition in Vancouver.
The event was organized through a Marriott hotel, a newly developed luxury and expensive hotel property in downtown Vancouver, and participants had to create an entire short film within a single weekend.
Scriptwriting. Casting. Sourcing. Filming. Acting. Editing. Everything.
In forty-eight hours. With almost no sleep.
To make things even more interesting, I was assigned the role of director…! Almost immediately, I began collecting reasons why the whole thing was a bad idea. And I was seriously talking to myself every hour, ‘I should leave now!’
The team wasn’t harmonious. The assignment felt illogical. Equipment wasn’t properly provided. Communication was messy. The organizers seemed disorganized. Logistics were frustrating.
In my mind, I had built a perfect legal case for quitting. And I nearly did. I remember wanting to walk out. But something happened. Instead of overanalyzing whether I should stay or leave, I just focused on the next task. Our team’s to-do list was chaotic, and as the director, I had no choice but to move. The role and surrounding pressure pushed me to act rather than stay in my head.
Find the actor. Shoot the footage. Review the edit. Solve the next problem. Then the next one. Then the next one. No grand motivation. No breakthrough mindset.
Just doing what was in front of me. And somehow, we finished.
When the film was finally screened during the showcase and awards night, I felt something unexpected. Yes, there was incredible excitement and joy, also, a huge relief.
Relief that I hadn’t escaped. Relief that I hadn’t listened to the voice that always tells me to leave when things become uncomfortable. Relief that I had proven one belief wrong: “I can’t do this.”
And I realized that beneath my pattern of leaving was mostly fear and discomfort.
The Hidden Cost of Escaping
Most people think their problem is making bad decisions.
No. I think many of us make reasonably good decisions. More importantly, in the larger picture, those decisions don’t change life as dramatically as we tend to believe.
The problem is that they abandon them too early.
The relationship becomes difficult.
The job becomes demanding.
The business grows slowly.
The meditation practice feels unfamiliar, or the group seems weird.
The degree takes longer than expected.
The moment discomfort appears, so does the desire to escape. And the mind is incredibly creative when it comes to manufacturing reasons. We justify leaving. Then we repeat the cycle again somewhere else.
Different city. Different job. Different relationship. Different project.
Same pattern. Same loop.
The Trap of Endless Optimization
From Ajahn Brahm’s teaching, it says: Many people spend enormous amounts of energy deciding between Option A and Option B. So much energy, in fact, that they never fully commit to either. They become trapped in optimization. Searching. Comparing. Calculating. Researching. Analyzing. Waiting.
But what if the secret isn’t choosing perfectly?
What if the secret is choosing—and then committing?
Not forever.
Just long enough to discover what the path actually has to offer.
Because many experiences only reveal their value after you’ve stayed through the uncomfortable phase.
The 100-Day Experiment
So here’s my challenge.
Give yourself 100 days. Not forever. Just 100 days.
Pick one thing. The workout routine. The meditation practice. The business idea. The language course. The relationship. The book you’ve been meaning to finish.
Stop shopping for alternatives every time something new appears. Stop asking:
“Is this the right choice?”
“Is this really for me?”
“What if there’s something better?”
You’ve already chosen. For the next 100 days, ask a different question:
“How can I make this a great experience?”
“How can I learn from it?”
“How can I grow through it?”
“How can I show up fully?”
We often believe the next relationship, the next city, the next project, or the next opportunity will finally make us happy.
No, your next thing will only reveal your habit, the habit of quitting, complaining, or avoiding. Sometimes the problem is not the circumstance. Sometimes the problem is the habit of leaving.
Most people don’t fail because they chose the wrong path. They fail because they never stay on a path long enough to discover where it leads.
Stay!
Some decisions deserve to be abandoned. Some situations genuinely need to end.
This is not an argument for staying in unhealthy relationships, toxic workplaces, or harmful circumstances. It’s about noticing the moment when fear disguises itself as wisdom.
When avoidance disguises itself as strategy.
When discomfort disguises itself as evidence that you’re on the wrong path.
Sometimes the greatest transformation isn’t finding something new.
Sometimes it’s finally staying long enough to break the loop.
Stay with the decision you’ve made.
Give it your full effort. Give it your full attention. Give it 100 days.
And see what happens.
Share Wisdom in Motion: Letters & Dispatches on Peace & Wellbeing
A Practical Space to Work With This
If this idea of noticing the escape pattern and learning to stay resonates, I’ve also been building a 12-week self-paced program on Buddhist philosophy and meditation practice.
The program combines foundational Buddhist teachings with guided reflection and meditation practices, supported by a group chat for Q&A and shared inquiry throughout the 12 weeks.
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