Comfort has a sound.
It’s the quiet hum most of us work toward. The thing we spend years chasing through education, career moves, long hours, and calculated decisions. We don’t usually call it comfort. We call it stability. Security. A good season.
Comfort isn’t inherently bad.
Neither is Disney World.
Disney World works because it’s designed to be temporary.
You plan for it. You save for it. You look for the easiest routes to get there. You anticipate it. When you arrive, you enjoy it fully. And when it’s over, you leave already thinking about how you’ll do it better next time.
No one goes to Disney World intending to live there.
Comfort is meant to function the same way.
We work hard to reach a place where things ease up. The bills are manageable. The job feels familiar. The routines settle. And one day, you look around and think, I made it. I’m comfortable.
That’s the visit.
The problem begins when the visit turns into residence.
Comfort feels so good that we start rearranging our lives around preserving it. Risk becomes unnecessary. Growth feels threatening. Discomfort gets rebranded as danger. We stop asking whether we’re still moving and start asking how to stay.
Living in a place meant only for rest comes at a cost.
If success is a highway, comfort is a rest area. You’re supposed to stop. You’re supposed to refuel. You’re not supposed to unpack. Rest areas don’t have foundations because no one is meant to build there.
This is where development quietly stalls.
Comfort rewards maintenance, not progress. It sustains what already exists but resists what’s next. Over time, the very thing that once felt like provision becomes a ceiling.
I once heard someone call a friend and ask a single question:
“Are you comfortable?”
When the answer was yes, the response was immediate.
“Then it’s time to get uncomfortable.”
No greeting. No explanation. Just truth.
Discomfort isn’t a sign that something is wrong. Often, it’s a sign that movement is required. Growth demands tension. Strength requires resistance. Maturity is formed by leaving places that once served you well.
Disney World is wonderful because you don’t live there.
Comfort is a gift when it’s visited.
It becomes a liability when it’s inhabited.
Have your moments of rest. Enjoy them fully.
Then keep moving.
Better is your home.
Comfort was never meant to be.
