The Gifts of the Productive Struggle: Lessons from the Building of a Treehouse.
Over the past year, my husband, 10-year-old son, and I have been building a treehouse. While I’ve helped here and there, this project has been mostly their endeavor, one that began about a year and a half ago with just an idea and a vision.
Since then, it’s been a long process of planning, sketching, calculating, and constructing, building up high in the branches. It’s been amazing to witness (and be a helpful assistant), but honestly, it hasn’t always felt that way. The project has been far more expensive and time-consuming than we ever anticipated. There have been plenty of weekends and evenings spent working and being bitten by mosquitoes instead of having fun or relaxing, and more than a few moments when I’ve asked my husband in the beginning stages, “Are you sure we want to do this?”
Each time, I was ready to “throw in the towel”, he reminded me that this project isn’t really about the finished treehouse, it’s about the process.
This wisdom was reiterated to me at this year’s Indiana PTA Conference. I had the privilege of hearing the Teacher of the Year, a keynote speaker, share something that resonated deeply with me. She said that in this age, where answers are always at our fingertips, we must begin grading, assessing, and rewarding what she termed “the productive struggle”. She shared that it’s in the productive struggle that we truly learn to think critically and creatively, cultivate patience, and build resilience; all skills that will be highly valued and necessary in the future.
Through building this treehouse, my son has learned firsthand the difference between creating in Minecraft and building something in real life. There’s no instant gratification here, no instant treehouse delivered in the same-day click of a button. Every nail, screw, board, and measurement takes time and effort. My son is learning to be patient, to be dedicated, to work hard, and to celebrate the little success milestones along the way.
When the treehouse is finally complete, I can only imagine how proud and fulfilled he and my husband will be. I know I am already so proud of both of them and grateful my son has had this character-building opportunity. I hope he enjoys every moment he can in the treehouse he built with his Dad and his own two hands. As for me, I plan to spend some quiet moments up there, reading a book or simply being. Because after every productive struggle, we deserve the chance to rest, reflect, and enjoy the fruits of our labor.
In our culture of constant productivity, I think we’ve lost touch with the natural rhythm between effort, productivity, and rest. When I think back on the times I’ve felt most proud, finishing my book (six years in the making), giving birth to my son, having a business that has sustained the span of over twenty years, or my own healing journey, none of them came easily. Each one involved uncertainty, discomfort, hard work, dedication, and the patience of letting a process unfold in its own time.
I see this struggle often with the people I work with: they want to get through whatever they are going through as quickly and easily as possible, and sometimes struggle to be patient with their process. I recognize this easily because I can certainly be in that mindset, too, at times. Why do we think we need to rush? Where do we think we are going? To reach some mythical side of life that exists without any challenges?
So I’ll ask you:
Is there something in your life you’re trying to rush through?
Are you being called to sit in the uncertainty of a process that’s not entirely in your control?
Can you take a moment to pause, rest, and acknowledge how far you’ve already come before moving on to what’s next?
Where in your life can you honor this natural rhythm? The dance between productive struggle, acknowledgment, enjoyment, and rest?
Learning to live in this rhythm starts with awareness; slowing down enough to notice when it’s time to work, when to acknowledge your progress, and when to enjoy it and rest in what has been created. I’m learning that constant productivity doesn’t always mean progress. Sometimes, it’s the stillness of a productive rest that can move us forward the most when the time is right and we are replenished.
As for me, whenever I want to push something forward to the finish line before it’s time (which is often), whether it’s the finished project of the treehouse or trying to find certainty and answers in the mystery and unfolding of my life’s chapters, I’ll remember my husband’s advice:
“It’s about the process”.
Let myself be in it, not rush it, trust, and maybe even enjoy the process!