Discomfort is the place no one wants to be, but everyone needs to visit. It shows up as that tightness in your chest before you give hard feedback, the long pause in a boardroom when no one’s sure where the blame falls, or the silence that follows a mistake everyone saw but no one wants to talk about. It’s evasive by nature, inconvenient by design, and nearly always avoided by default.

But here’s the truth: discomfort isn’t the enemy. It’s a signal. It points to the edge of your growth, and if you’re leading teams, building companies, or steering culture—your ability to stay with it (rather than sidestep it) directly affects your clarity, your presence, and ultimately, your impact.

We’ve been taught that uncertainty, awkwardness, vulnerability, and even failure are things we should escape or fix. That’s why most professionals—yes, even the sharpest executives and the most seasoned entrepreneurs—build entire systems around avoiding discomfort. But the more you run from it, the more power it has over you.

Master it instead.

When you learn to sit inside discomfort, to really feel it and move through it, you stop reacting from fear and start responding with purpose. You stop grasping for control and start building capacity. That’s when the noise settles and meaningful decisions, sustainable confidence, and real leadership show up.

This isn’t about grinding through pain. This is about building a mind that doesn’t flinch.

You’ll find peace—not by avoiding the hard stuff—but by getting better at walking through it with your eyes open. And the leaders who can do that? They don’t just perform under pressure. They shift the entire environment around them.

That’s what this piece is about. Not theory. Not fluff. Just real, earned ways to stop running from discomfort and start using it as a lever for peace, direction, and sharper leadership.

Understanding the Nature of Discomfort

Discomfort isn’t just a feeling. It’s a full-body response calibrated for survival, not leadership.

When you’re facing a tough negotiation, delivering bad news, or making a high-stakes decision you’re unsure about, your brain doesn’t draw a line between that moment and a life-or-death threat. It kicks in ancient programming—tight muscles, shallow breath, racing thoughts, emotional spikes. That’s your sympathetic nervous system doing its job. It’s trying to get you out of danger.

The problem? Most executive discomfort isn’t physical danger. It’s emotional friction—uncertainty, risk, rejection, vulnerability. But your body doesn’t know that. It reacts the same either way.

This is where most leaders short-circuit themselves.

When that biological stress response fires, it narrows your thinking. You default to gut reactions. You skip nuance. You avoid the hard conversation, delay a key decision, outsource something you’re capable of handling, or lean too far into control instead of dialogue.

Discomfort redirects your attention away from what matters most and toward whatever gets you relief fastest.

That doesn’t serve you—or your team—when stakes are high and complexity runs deep.

What’s Actually Happening in the Brain

The prefrontal cortex—your decision-making center—takes a back seat when stress spikes. Instead, your amygdala hijacks the show. It’s lightning-fast, emotional, and not interested in thoughtful analysis. It’s running damage control.

So when your board presentation goes off-script, or a top performer calls you out in a team meeting, and you feel yourself tighten, freeze, or lash out—it’s not a character flaw. It’s a predictable, biological response.

But predictable doesn’t mean uncontrollable.

Leaders Who Master Discomfort Stay in the Driver’s Seat

When you learn how your body and brain respond to discomfort, you stop being a passenger. You start choosing how to handle the tension instead of being dragged by it.

  • Awareness gives you a moment to pause before reacting.
  • Regulation keeps you grounded in a heated moment.
  • Practice builds internal tolerance so that discomfort doesn’t dominate your thought process.

The leaders who train for this—who meet their edge often and on purpose—develop a clarity most others don’t access under pressure.

They don’t just “get through” hard conversations. They lead them with composure.

They don’t just “manage stress.” They use it to sharpen focus and decision-making.

This isn’t self-help theory. It’s human biology. And if you’re serious about making smarter decisions under stress, you need to quit treating discomfort like a distraction—and start treating it like data.

Discomfort is information. Your job is to decode it, not silence it.

Why High-Level Professionals Often Run From Discomfort

Let’s call it what it is: comfort is more addictive the higher up you go.

By the time you’re in the C-suite, running your own business, or leading HR for a complex organization, you’ve probably gotten damn good at avoiding chaos—or at least containing it. You’ve built systems, installed buffers, streamlined decision paths, and insulated yourself from certain kinds of pain. That’s not weakness. That’s strategy. But here’s the catch: you’ve also trained yourself to avoid the very friction that sharpens leadership.

Discomfort Doesn’t Fit the “High Performer” Story

Most leaders don’t bail on discomfort because they’re fragile. They bail because the image they’ve built can’t hold it. Discomfort introduces uncertainty. And uncertainty threatens identity.

  • What if I speak up and I’m wrong?
  • What if I challenge the norm and lose credibility?
  • What if this fails and it lands on me?

You’ve spent years proving you belong in rooms with pressure and power. So, the idea of admitting doubt, exposing vulnerability, or stepping into conflict without a guarantee? It feels like reputational risk—even if it’s the most honest, effective play in the long run.

This is especially true when your role is tied to performance optics.

A CEO who freezes in crisis doesn’t inspire confidence. An HR leader who can’t navigate tension doesn’t build trust. An entrepreneur who admits fear might scare off investors. That weight—the constant demand to “have it together”—makes it easier to avoid the uncomfortable thing and default to what’s known, rehearsed, or safe.

The Risk-Averse Reflex

High achievers often mistake discomfort for bad judgment.

This shows up most during potential change:

  • Sitting on a tough decision because you “need more data,” when really you’re afraid of pushback
  • Loading up contingency plans instead of moving with conviction
  • Drowning in perfectionism because mistakes feel too exposed at this level

That’s not caution. That’s avoidance dressed in logic.

And the longer you stay in avoidance, the more self-doubt creeps in. Now it’s not just discomfort—it’s erosion. Of clarity. Of confidence. Of decisiveness. And you start compensating with control, isolation, or over-reliance on processes that look solid on paper but kill adaptability when things get real.

Organizational Pressure Rewards Avoidance

Sometimes, it’s not even your fear. It’s the culture around you.

  • An executive team that punishes failure publicly? You’ll learn to play it safe.
  • A board that demands constant certainty? You’ll over-filter your instincts.
  • A company that confuses comfort with stability? You’ll resist rocking the boat, even when it needs rocking.

Discomfort often exposes the cracks no one wants to admit are there.

And when facing systemic fragility, most leaders find it easier to wait, gloss over, or push back the tough call—until someone else forces action. But waiting doesn’t reduce the discomfort. It multiplies it. Quietly.

Example: The Phantom of the Missed Conversation

I worked with an HR VP once who delayed addressing toxic behavior from a high performer. She knew it wasn’t sustainable. But confronting it meant possible blowback from leadership. So she avoided it for six months. By the time the issue exploded, the cost wasn’t just one person’s attitude—it was four team exits, a fractured culture, and a credibility gap she never fully recovered from.

This is what running from discomfort looks like in the real world. It’s done in silence, in meeting rooms where nothing’s said, in emails that dodge responsibility, in “strategic delays” that feel smart but aren’t.

Here’s the takeaway:

Discomfort doesn’t go away because you ignore it. It just compounds with interest.

The leaders who move through it—with presence, not panic—aren’t fearless. They’re trained. And it starts with stop pretending discomfort has no role in leadership. It is the role.

The Link Between Mastering Discomfort and Finding Peace

If you’re always trying to dodge discomfort, peace stays out of reach.

It’s a paradox most driven professionals never see coming. You claw your way to the top, thinking control equals peace—more authority, more structure, fewer surprises. But the further you go, the more chaos you’re asked to hold. And if you don’t know how to stay grounded inside that internal chaos? You start making decisions from tension, not truth.

When you master discomfort, you stop being hijacked by stress. You stop letting pressure own your reactions. That’s when things shift. That’s where peace comes from—not the absence of problems, but the strength to meet them without flinching.

Stress Doesn’t Disappear. Your Relationship with It Changes.

You can’t lead at a high level without facing emotional turbulence. But when you build capacity for discomfort, stress stops feeling like something to escape. It becomes something you can hold. Something you can work with.

  • Fewer emotional spikes when things don’t go as planned
  • Clearer decision-making under tight timelines and external pressure
  • More trust in your instincts because self-doubt softens

This isn’t about zoning out or “staying calm” all the time. It’s about confidence. The kind you earn by repeatedly choosing to stay present in moments your nervous system wants to bail.

Peace isn’t passive. It’s built through practice.

Emotional Intelligence Gets Sharper

Discomfort is one of the fastest teachers of emotional intelligence—if you let it. When you stop shutting down or numbing out, you start getting real data about your own patterns.

  • What triggers your defensiveness?
  • What kind of feedback makes your gut twist?
  • Where do you go silent, shift blame, or over-compensate?

Mastering discomfort makes you honest with yourself first.

If you’ve ever worked for a leader who could take bad news without folding, who could sit in hard feedback without deflecting, you’ve felt what that peace looks like in action. Its presence. Its strength. Its composure. That’s what emotional intelligence looks like when it’s forged through discomfort—not theory.

Mental Resilience Is Trained in the Fire

Mental resilience isn’t built in the calm. It’s built in discomfort’s backyard.

If you avoid the situations that stress you, you weaken your capacity over time. But if you choose discomfort—consistently, strategically—you train your brain and body to hold more tension without tipping.

  • You recover faster from setbacks
  • You adapt quicker when things shift
  • You trust yourself more deeply in high-stakes moments

That’s peace: not needing everything to be easy in order to feel steady.

I’ve coached founders facing lawsuits, CHROs navigating layoffs, and CEOs grappling with deep imposter syndrome—and across the board, the ones who found peace weren’t the ones who avoided discomfort. They were the ones who made a habit of walking straight into it with intention. Not reactively, not masochistically—just like it was part of the job. Because it is.

Real Peace Starts When You Stop Bracing for Impact

The tension most leaders carry isn’t from the external challenges themselves. It’s from the constant bracing. The unconscious grip that says, What if this gets worse? What if I mess it up? What happens if I can’t handle it?

Let that go. Not the responsibility—just the panic reflex.

Peace isn’t found in the absence of discomfort. It’s built in knowing you don’t have to fear it anymore.

When you master discomfort, you reclaim all the mental bandwidth you’ve been spending on avoidance, perfectionism, and self-preservation. You make room for spacious thinking, grounded presence, and deep confidence that doesn’t blink when the pressure hits.

It’s not that the hard moments stop coming. It’s that you stop being at war with them.

Practical Strategies to Stop Running from Discomfort

Discomfort doesn’t leave on its own. You train your way through it.

If you’re serious about becoming the leader people trust in the middle of chaos, you don’t wait until a breakdown to start building tolerance. You develop a system. Something you can turn to—even when everything in your body is screaming to run. What follows isn’t theory. These are field-tested strategies I’ve used with C-suite clients, HR leaders, and entrepreneurs trying to stay steady while the ground moves underneath them.

1. Mindfulness: Build the Pause That Buys You Time

No, mindfulness isn’t about sitting cross-legged on a mountain. It’s about slowing down your internal velocity just enough to respond instead of react.

When you feel discomfort—tight chest, spiraling thoughts—your instinct will push you toward fast action. Fight. Numb. Avoid. But when you practice mindfulness consistently, you increase what’s called “interoceptive awareness”—your ability to notice what’s happening inside before your brain hijacks the steering wheel.

This gives you space to choose.

  • Take 60 seconds before meetings to scan your body and slow your breath
  • Label your emotions in the moment: “This is fear. This is defensiveness.”
  • Use breath-counting or box breathing to re-engage your prefrontal cortex

The goal? Interrupt autopilot. Drop back into awareness—especially when tension peaks.

2. Cognitive Reframing: Change the Meaning, Change the Experience

Discomfort gets worse when you tell yourself it shouldn’t be there.

Executives often misinterpret discomfort as a red flag: “If this feels this bad, it must be wrong.” But discomfort isn’t always danger. Sometimes it’s just unfamiliar. Or meaningful. Or hard because it matters.

Cognitive reframing means interrupting the story you’re telling yourself about discomfort and replacing it with one that serves the moment.

  • Instead of “I’m not ready for this,” say “This matters to me—that’s why it feels intense.”
  • Instead of “I might fail,” say “This is where growth happens. I’ve been here before.”
  • Instead of “This is going to collapse,” say “This is a hard season. I’m capable of navigating it.”

Reframing doesn’t remove pain. It restores agency.

3. Exposure Therapy: Controlled Repetition of Discomfort

You don’t get better at pressure by avoiding it. You get better by stepping into it—in manageable doses—on purpose.

Exposure therapy isn’t about flooding yourself with fear. It’s about choosing discomfort repeatedly until it loses its power over you. The keyword here is strategic.

  • Hate public speaking? Host weekly team standups instead of outsourcing communication.
  • Avoiding conflict? Schedule direct check-ins where challenge is on the table.
  • Struggle with delegation? Let go of one control point per week—and don’t rescue it.

Each exposure trains your system to tolerate what used to spike your stress levels.

Keep the reps small. Keep them consistent. And track the change—not how you feel after, but how often you didn’t flinch when it mattered.

4. Disciplined Risk-Taking: Build a Playbook, Not a Freefall

Comfort loves overplanning. Growth loves movement.

When discomfort hits, we often fall into analysis paralysis. Deciding feels too risky, so we over-model, over-consult, and under-act. That’s where disciplined risk-taking comes in—it’s not about recklessness. It’s about building a process around calculated discomfort so the unknown doesn’t freeze you.

Create a structure that supports bold moves while minimizing downside exposure:

  1. Define your edge: What decision are you avoiding that would stretch you?
  2. List the worst-case scenario and response plan: What’s the real cost? Can you handle it?
  3. Commit to a time-bound action: Not someday. Not when you’re less busy. This week.
  4. Review and recalibrate: What did you learn? Where did you hesitate? What’s next?

This is how smart professionals train decisiveness under pressure.

5. Practice Recovery—Not Just Endurance

If you think this is all about getting tougher, you’ll burn out. Mastering discomfort isn’t about enduring pain forever. It’s about learning to reset quickly and sustainably.

  • End intense meetings with five minutes of silent reflection—not Slack and caffeine
  • After difficult conversations, write down what worked and what didn’t while it’s fresh
  • Build in recovery cycles weekly: therapy, nature, time away from decision-making

Your nervous system is your leadership engine. Take care of it like it matters—because it does.

Make It a Practice, Not a Performance

None of this works if you treat discomfort like a performance metric. This isn’t about broadcasting your resilience. It’s about building the internal muscle to show up clear, present, and unshaken—even when things underneath are messy.

Discomfort is a leadership gym. You don’t get strong by watching someone else lift.

You don’t need to like discomfort. You need to be trained not to run from it.

Applying Mastery of Discomfort to Enhance Leadership and Organizational Culture

Discomfort is a leadership multiplier when you stop resisting it and start using it.

Every executive says they’re committed to growth. Most say they value innovation, transparency, and bold decision-making. But the moment discomfort walks into the room—when someone challenges the status quo, admits uncertainty, or brings invisible tension to the surface—those same leaders backpedal into defensiveness, over-control, or polite avoidance.

Here’s the real play: You can’t create a culture of courage on a foundation of comfort.

If you want an organization that thinks sharper, moves cleaner, and adapts faster, you’ve got to lead from a place that honors discomfort—not as a failure to manage, but as a signal to engage.

Better Decisions Come From Leaders Who Stay Present in Discomfort

Discomfort slows reaction time for some. For trained leaders, it sharpens discernment.

Most bad decisions don’t come from a lack of data. They come from pressure shortcuts—when a leader makes a call to escape tension, not because the decision is sound. That’s what happens when you haven’t built tolerance for discomfort.

But when you can hold heat without flinching, you buy yourself two things you cannot lead without: clarity and pace.

  • You stop negotiating with urgency and start locating leverage
  • You hear more nuance because you’re not rushing to a resolution
  • You trust your gut without outsourcing accountability

This translates into stronger directional calls, even when timelines are tight and outcomes are foggy. Not because you know everything—but because you’re no longer running from the ambivalence.

Innovation Lives Where Discomfort Is Allowed

Your culture’s creative ceiling is set by how much discomfort you’re willing to permit.

If people can’t challenge assumptions without ruffling feathers, if feedback gets diluted to stay “polite,” if experimentation is celebrated only when it works immediately—you’re not innovating. You’re rehearsing.

The best ideas don’t come from safe containers. They come from tension—conflicting views, brave risks, prototypes that fail before they fly.

But that can only happen when a leader models their own comfort with discomfort:

  • “I don’t know” becomes a leadership tactic, not a liability
  • Bad news is welcomed early, because spin doesn’t get rewarded
  • Reframe failure as data, not blame

Innovation follows psychological permission. And permission is granted when leaders stay grounded during friction instead of folding under it.

Psychological Safety Doesn’t Mean Making Everything Easy

Some leaders misunderstand psychological safety. They think it means avoiding conflict or reducing pressure. That’s not safety. That’s avoidance in disguise.

True psychological safety means people can bring their real voice to the room—especially when it might disrupt, challenge, or disappoint.

That kind of safety doesn’t emerge from policies. It emerges from leaders who know how to sit in discomfort without passing it off.

  • When someone pushes back and you don’t retaliate—or rescind the invite next time
  • When tough feedback comes through, and your face doesn’t change
  • When failure hits and you hold accountability without shaming

Your response to discomfort sets the tone for how deep trust gets built.

If people see you calm in tension, open under scrutiny, willing to be wrong without spiraling—they’ll start to believe this is a place where honesty actually lives. And when people believe that, they give their best thinking—not their safest compliance.

Organizational Growth Requires Structural Discomfort

Change isn’t hard because people are lazy. It’s hard because it’s uncomfortable.

And most companies unintentionally design around comfort. They keep outdated roles to avoid tough reorg conversations. They under-resource transformation efforts because rescoping hurts egos. They delay hire/fire decisions to not disturb the “vibe.”

Discomfort avoided at the organizational level becomes entropy overnight.

But when leaders are willing to step into the messy middle—naming the hard truths, making the tough structural calls, standing inside temporary unrest—something shifts. The culture stops depending on artificial harmony and starts building functional trust.

  • Roles evolve faster because clarity trumps legacy attachments
  • Feedback ecosystems stay alive instead of devolving into silence
  • People calibrate to stretch, not stagnation

You don’t get adaptive cultures by prioritizing comfort. You get them by doubling down on candid process, directional risk, and clean accountability in the face of discomfort.

The Ripple Effect Starts With You

When you build a personal tolerance for discomfort, your leadership stops being reactive. Your tone shifts. Your culture follows.

Whether you’re a founder, a C-level exec, or an HR lead shaping policy—you’re modeling norms every time you show up under pressure. How you respond to uncertainty becomes the permission others take.

If you soften when things get tense, your team learns from that. If you shrink inside conflict, they’ll do the same. But if you stand in that room, steady and open—even when everything feels like it’s going sideways—you become the signal of what’s possible.

Resilient cultures don’t start with all-hands meetings. They start with leadership nervous systems that don’t panic in discomfort.

And when you decide to build yours—intentionally, consistently—the results don’t just show up in KPIs. They show up in how people feel when they walk into work: steady, seen, and brave.

Master discomfort, and your leadership won’t just get sharper. It’ll become the kind of leadership people remember.

Case Studies and Success Stories

Discomfort isn’t theory. It’s lived—and the wins come when people stop dodging it.

You don’t need more frameworks. You need evidence. Proof that this isn’t soft-skill hype, but a clear path to impact. So let’s get out of the hypothetical and into the stories. These are real professionals—an executive, an HR leader, and an entrepreneur—who trained through discomfort and came out clearer, steadier, and more effective on the other side.

1. The CEO Who Stopped Avoiding Conflict

Profile: CEO of a $150M logistics company, East Coast

Problem: Her executive team wasn’t aligned. They smiled in meetings, agreed on surface-level metrics, then undercut each other in execution. She knew it—but she avoided naming it. Didn’t want to seem like the “emotional” CEO. She kept pushing the strategy without dealing with the dysfunction. It backfired: product delays, siloed operations, and quiet resentment building under the hood.

Discomfort: Naming the real issues. Opening space for conflict. Risking that what surfaced might break trust, not fix it.

What shifted: She booked time during a quarterly offsite, not for strategy—but to surface tension. No fake updates. Just honest, clean dialogue. She worked with a facilitator to manage emotional intensity. And she did something rare in the C-suite: she modeled vulnerability first. Admitted where she’d avoided. Took accountability without dilution. Let the discomfort breathe instead of fixing it fast.

Result: The exec team didn’t collapse. They came alive. Direct communication started happening outside meetings. Two underperformers self-selected out. Strategic execution sped up 3x because internal politics stopped eating bandwidth. And she stopped carrying the emotional weight of pretending it wasn’t broken.

Her words: “I assumed conflict would fracture us. Avoiding it almost did. Owning the tension made us real.”

2. The HR Leader Who Faced the Layoff Conversation

Profile: CHRO at a mid-sized fintech startup, West Coast

Problem: Fast burn rate. Pressure from investors. Leadership consensus that headcount reduction was necessary, but a reluctance to act. The founder wouldn’t say it aloud. Department leads protected their people. So it got pushed. Week after week. And people started sensing instability anyway—creating anxiety without answers.

Discomfort: Facing and delivering layoff news. Owning the hard decision in a culture that prided itself on being “like family.”

What shifted: She stopped waiting for the founder to lead the conversation. Scheduled a meeting with the executive team and named what they were all avoiding. Laid out a clean, phased proposal for the reduction. Aligned communication timing, resources for transitions, and language that honored people without spinning the truth.

She delivered the news herself, alongside the CEO—but didn’t sugarcoat it. No bloated gratitude paragraphs. Just clarity, respect, and presence. She stayed live on Slack after the announcement, took heat without defensiveness, and opened 1:1s with impacted staff within hours.

Result: Morale took a hit—but trust didn’t collapse. Months later, Glassdoor scores improved. The remaining staff said the transparency increased their respect. And retention of top performers went up, not down.

Her words: “Discomfort isn’t what breaks people. It’s pretending it’s not there. Naming it? That’s what integrity looks like.”

3. The Founder Who Learned to Let Go

Profile: Tech entrepreneur, Series B, Midwest

Problem: He was holding too much. Still reviewing marketing copy line-by-line. Sitting in every product meeting. Blocking final decisions with last-minute feedback. Team was frustrated—but he justified it as “being thorough.” Truth was, he was scared of losing control as things scaled. Delegation felt like a risk. He talked “vision,” but lived in micro-management.

Discomfort: Letting people fail. Watching something go live that he didn’t touch. Handing over the last word.

What shifted: He agreed to a 30-day leadership reset: no operational involvement in marketing or product decisions. Zero. Only coaching and final approvals if specifically requested. First week was brutal—he hovered on Slack, nearly jumped in emails. But he stayed with the discomfort.

Midway through: Projects got delivered faster. His CMO stepped up. Product leads started iterating without waiting on bottleneck approval. And he gained back 15 hours per week—time he could use on the next capital raise and strategic hiring.

By the end, he permanently restructured his involvement. Not out of detachment—but out of clarity.

His words: “It wasn’t about efficiency. I was scared of not being needed. Once I let go, I became a better founder—not just a busy one.”

What These Stories Prove

Discomfort isn’t a detour from leadership—it’s where real leadership develops.

  • Facing tension sharpens alignment faster than any off-site exercise
  • Owning hard messages builds trust stronger than positive spin ever could
  • Letting go of control builds leadership around you, not just through you

This is what happens when you stop running and start using discomfort on purpose.

These weren’t perfect leaders. They were willing leaders. And that’s the edge that changed everything.

Embracing Discomfort as a Pathway to Sustainable Peace and Leadership Excellence

If there’s one throughline in all of this, it’s simple: You will never lead clearly if you’re ruled by your instinct to avoid discomfort.

We’ve unpacked the biology behind your stress responses. The ways high-level professionals—often unknowingly—build their careers around comfort and control. The cost of running. And the exponential edge that emerges when you decide to stop.

The choice is in front of you now.

You can keep reinforcing the patterns: outsourcing tension, hiding truth under polish, sticking to the script even when the story under it is falling apart. Or you can build something sturdier. Not just outside—within.

Presence under pressure. Stillness in movement. Trust in your own instincts—because they’ve been tested in fire, not coddled in comfort.

This isn’t about pretending to be fearless. It’s about being trained enough to stay, even when fear walks in.

Peace doesn’t come from certainty. It comes from knowing you no longer need certainty to move forward.

And leadership? The kind that earns trust in silence, that makes rooms safer without softening standards, that roots cultures in courage instead of comfort—that kind of leadership starts when you stop running from discomfort and begin using it as your guide.

So the ask isn’t theoretical. It’s direct.

  • Build the awareness to notice when you’re flinching
  • Practice the pause before the habit to avoid wins again
  • Step toward tension—on purpose, in practice, with consistency

You don’t chase peace. You build the muscle to hold it, with clarity, through the hard parts.

If you’re serious about sustainable leadership—grounded, brave, and remembered for the right reasons—mastering discomfort is not optional. It’s the whole job.

This is your work. Start doing it now.