A diver explores the deep sea. Experts say taking on manageable challenges in safe conditions boosts confidence and strengthens stress recovery systems.Getty Images
In this digital era built for ease and instant gratification, intentional discomfort has become a new form of consciousness.
Across Canada – from icy lake plunges in Muskoka, Ont. to gruelling trail runs in the Rockies – people are turning away from screens and seeking controlled challenges as an antidote to digital fatigue and emotional numbness. And it taps into something fundamental in our biology.
“Anytime we face a challenge, our bodies are designed to deal with it,” says Dr. Tara Perrot, a professor of psychology and neuroscience at Dalhousie University. “Hormones such as adrenaline, noradrenaline and cortisol make us more alert and focused. When we expose ourselves to discomfort voluntarily, those same systems activate, but because we’re safe and in control, the brain interprets the rush as excitement rather than fear.”
Voluntary stress, she explains, briefly activates the body’s threat-response network, then allows it to reset.
“You know the cold plunge or the bungee jump will be over in seconds. Your stress systems ramp up, then shut down again. That recovery protects the brain from the damage long-term stress can cause.”
Researchers call this deliberate exposure to manageable stressors hormetic stress – the idea that short, acute doses of stress strengthen the body’s and brain’s resilience. Exercise, fasting and cold or heat exposure all train the nervous system to recover quickly from pressure.
The payoff is not just physiological – it’s psychological.
“Our brains evolved to need a balance of stimulation and recovery,” Dr. Perrot says. “Too few challenges can dull motivation and lower our sense of reward.”
That balance may explain why the digital world leaves us anxious yet unsatisfied. Constant input mimics stimulation without providing resolution. Discomfort, by contrast, gives the body a beginning, middle and end – a story the brain can complete.
“We spend our days in climate-controlled comfort,” says explorer and television host George Kourounis, known for documenting some of the planet’s most extreme natural phenomena – from tornadoes to active volcanoes. “Our homes, cars and offices are all perfectly regulated. But when you’re standing on the edge of a volcano and you can feel the heat and the ground shaking under your feet, it triggers something deep. Primordial.”
For Jill Heinerth, one of the world’s leading cave divers and underwater explorers, that challenge takes the form of high-stakes expeditions beneath the Earth’s surface.
“Managing risk is at the heart of everything I do,” she says. “Every project starts with fear, but it evolves into competence. When I’m underwater, I leave my emotions on the surface so I can focus completely. If something goes wrong, my first action is to take a deep breath and remind myself I’m capable. These experiences have instilled in me a deep sense of confidence, emotional resilience and the hard-earned wisdom that comes from completing more than 8,000 dives.”
Mr. Kourounis echoes that transformation. “When you’re standing on the edge of an active volcano or in the path of a tornado, the rest of the world fades away. You’re totally focused and alive in that moment.”
For more than two decades, he has chased storms on six continents and descended into Turkmenistan’s “Door to Hell,” a massive crater of burning gas.
“That expedition took a year and a half to plan,” he says. “But when you finally succeed – when you push through that wall – you realize you’re capable of far more than you thought.”
Discomfort, it turns out, may be one of the last honest routes to awe – the feeling that reminds us we’re part of something larger than ourselves. Mr. Kourounis recalls being violently seasick crossing from New Zealand to Australia when, through the nausea, he noticed glowing blue bioluminescence trailing in the ship’s wake.
“Had I not been hanging over the rail throwing up, I might never have seen it,” he says. “That’s the silver lining in the hell.”
Ms. Heinerth’s expeditions are guided by purpose.
“Every project involves learning about something new,” she says. “When I collaborate with scientists, I become their eyes in a remote place. Every risk I take has to carry value for humanity or the planet.”
Mr. Kourounis agrees. “Doing difficult things for a reason – documenting nature, inspiring curiosity – makes the discomfort meaningful.”
Not everyone can be a storm chaser or deep-sea diver, and our brains don’t need us to be. Dr. Perrot says voluntary challenges that push our limits, no matter the scale, reshape how our brains handle involuntary stressors.
“If you’ve trained your brain and body to recover quickly from controlled stress, you’re better equipped to face real-world adversity,” she says.
That’s why she encourages people to start small.
“Pick something just outside your comfort zone where you’re almost guaranteed to succeed. You’ll activate your stress system, get that dopamine reward and begin to see difficult situations as less intimidating.”
She notes that challenges don’t necessarily have to be physical. “Mindfulness trains a non-reactive, non-judgmental response to stress. It literally changes how brain regions involved in threat perception function.”
Whether it’s a freezing lake, a mountain trail or a moment of stillness without a screen, deliberate discomfort may be the most natural antidote to modern ease.
“Too few challenges leave us numb,” Dr. Perrot says. “A little stress, in the right dose, reminds the brain – and the body – what it means to be alive.”