It was just after Fajr.

The house was still kids asleep, the wind outside doing its usual Cape Doctor tantrum. I stepped outside with a cup of rooibos, barefoot, feeling that cold Gordon’s Bay dew soak straight through my socks. Classic mistake. But it woke me up properly.

As I looked out across the garden half-built coop on the left, tomato trellis on the right, half my tools probably rusting in the shed I couldn’t shake this thought:

“Comfort is nice… but am I actually growing?”


Have you ever felt safe but stuck?

That’s been my low-key wrestling match for months now. Everything’s kind of… working. Kids are learning, the solar’s behaving, my projects aren’t crashing, and I’ve even started eating on time.

But inside, something’s been off.

I came across this post by Dr. Thomas Funke talking about how staying in your comfort zone too long slowly suffocates your potential. And that hit hard. I’ve seen it in myself. In others. Even in my kids when I make things too easy for them.

The kicker? Science backs it up.


Your brain needs discomfort to grow (no, really)

Turns out, your brain’s like a muscle with a bit of an attitude it only grows when you challenge it. This process is called neuroplasticity, and it’s why trying new, slightly uncomfortable things actually rewires your brain. Like debugging Vue code while your toddler is throwing Lego at you. Hypothetically.

That “stretched-but-not-panicked” state is called the optimal anxiety zone, and it’s where we’re most creative and adaptable. The Yerkes-Dodson Law (been around since 1908!) proves it: a little stress boosts performance. Too much shuts you down. Too little? You rot in place.




I’ve been safe before and miserable

Back in Malaysia, we had a patch where everything was chill. Good income. Beach nearby. Smooth schedule. But I was spiritually dry. Creatively flat. Even my ibadah felt mechanical.

Here’s the twist: the Prophet ﷺ said, “The strong believer is better and more beloved to Allah than the weak believer, though both are good.” (Sahih Muslim). Strength isn’t just physical. It’s emotional, spiritual, mental.

That strength comes through discomfort. Through doing the uncomfortable thing with tawakkul.


You don’t need to jump off a cliff just move the edge

I used to think “getting out of your comfort zone” meant massive risk. Drop everything. Start from scratch. Sell goats. Move countries. (Okay, maybe that last one was us.)

But the science and life says otherwise.

Tiny courage moves are what reshape your brain and build resilience.

Start the podcast.

Have the awkward conversation.

Offer the prayer when you’re bone-tired.

Try the new skill. Even if it sucks at first.

Go for a walk instead of doomscrolling.


Over time, these build that quiet inner strength the kind that doesn’t shout, but shows up consistently.


Parenting, discomfort, and chickens that won’t lay

This week, my daughter Khawlah was freaking out over building a DIY perch inside the coop. “I can’t do it, Baba!” she said. Tools in hand, frustrated.

I could’ve stepped in.

But I didn’t.

I walked out, gave her space. She eventually figured it out and now, you’d swear she built the Taj Mahal with that smirk on her face.

Discomfort isn’t something we rescue our kids from. It’s the arena where they learn who they are.

And same for us.

[Could link this to that unschooling post about letting kids fail.]


When you don’t run from discomfort, something shifts inside

There’s barakah in facing hard things.

Even if it’s as small as speaking the truth when it would be easier to stay quiet. Or fixing the generator again when you’d rather just scream into a pillow.

These small acts build what the Prophet ﷺ called sabr jameel beautiful patience. Not passive suffering. But graceful, active endurance.

And maybe the growth you’re waiting for isn’t waiting for clarity or calm. Maybe it’s waiting for you to step forward socks soaked, heart racing into the unknown.


I’m not there yet. I still default to safety more than I’d like. Still overthink decisions. Still stay quiet when I should speak. But I’m learning…

Comfort is a liar if it keeps you from who you’re meant to become.

May Allah grant us courage with sincerity. And growth with gratitude.

Ameen.