Is Life Really Easier When We Follow Our Hearts?

In countless self-development guides, we are repeatedly told that a fulfilled and happy life emerges when we follow our hearts. I, too, pass this advice on to my clients and the people around me—because I truly believe that this is where what nourishes us most deeply and fulfills us authentically resides.

And yet, following that inner call often feels incredibly difficult. Instead, we look for escape routes—through distractions, dependencies, or perfectly reasonable excuses. We blame the circumstances, politics, our parents, society, or our financial situation.

“I have to earn money…”

“I can’t change jobs now—it would look bad on my CV.”

“I don’t want to let anyone down.”

I’ll relax once I retire.”“

If I don’t work, I feel worthless.”“

I can’t afford to follow my heart—I have responsibilities.”

So many reasons not to do what we deeply desire—or perhaps even need—in order to live in alignment with our values. Is this naïve wishful thinking in the 21st century, despite all the apparent luxury around us?

Some critics might say: Yes, but even in wealthy countries like Germany, people live in poverty. And that’s true. Just recently, during lunch with an American, we talked about how many people live on the streets even in one of the richest U.S. states—often broken by a lack of health insurance or insufficient social security systems. Sometimes life strikes hard, and in the moment, we often don’t understand why it happens to us.

I sometimes think about this when I’m traveling in India, where I see people who appear surprisingly serene despite living among plastic waste on the streets. Meanwhile, in the West, we experience enormous prosperity—and yet there is constant complaining: about taxes, the government, “the system.” Often with good reason. Questioning things is essential; blindly accepting everything certainly isn’t the answer. Quite the opposite. It’s becoming increasingly important to truly feel what is right and aligned for each individual.

And still, it can be easier to complain than to take responsibility.

Taking responsibility may also mean consciously swimming against the current: reducing exposure to social media to protect ourselves, not being constantly available or transparent, and not losing precious life energy to endless scrolling or following others ideas. (And yes, I include myself here.)

But don’t I always have a choice?

Yes. I do.

Even when I’m annoyed about cleaning my apartment, I choose to do it—because a clean home matters to me. And if we’re honest, the energy we spend complaining often exceeds the energy required for acceptance: when trains are delayed, job applications are rejected, or life plans don’t unfold as expected. 

Maybe the timing wasn’t right.

Maybe we’re meant to learn patience.

Maybe life is protecting us from something we can’t yet see.

Even when we experience deep suffering—which is undeniably tragic and deserves compassion—we still have a choice in how we respond. In Buddhism, it is said that we cannot avoid painful situations. But the real suffering—the second, often greater pain—lies in how we react to them. That part is within our sphere of influence.

Sometimes it also helps to reflect on which need we were trying to meet with a particular decision. Even if it no longer fits, it once mattered to us. Understanding this can help us be gentler with ourselves.

My mother used to say, whenever I was afraid or imagined disaster: “Nothing is ever as hot as it’s cooked.” And she was right.

We always have a choice: change it, love it, or leave it. This mantra applies to every situation—always. We don’t have to leave the moment something becomes uncomfortable. Often, it’s worth trying everything that’s possible first. And if we truly have done all we can—whether in a job, a relationship, or a situation—and it still doesn’t work, then it’s okay to walk away, knowing we gave it our all. Especially when we’re unsure.

At the same time, it’s essential to take responsibility for our choices rather than remaining in a victim role. Even when we’re frustrated with a task, a role, or a job, it often fulfills a need.

I know these doubts well. When I pack my backpack for the umpteenth time, when my accommodation is only available for two nights, when I see my friends and their children far less than I’d like, when I feel overwhelmed by impressions, people, and uncertainty. When I long for routine, a stable home, and a secure income—and ask myself: Why am I doing this?

In those moments, I feel empty, tired, and on the verge of complaining in classic German fashion.

And yet I remind myself: following my heart has a price.

A different one than I may have imagined—but one I consciously chose.

Who ever said that a heart-led life would be easy or sunny all the time? No one.

True growth means facing challenges—again and again. Especially the uncomfortable ones. Particularly when we want to truly meet ourselves, with both light and shadow. That requires confronting uncertainty, fear, discomfort, and everything beyond the comfort zone.

And yes, it also includes the realization that I could choose a seemingly “safe” life at any time.

Every decision we make—even those that don’t make us happy—serves a need.

We don’t enjoy ironing, but we want a smooth shirt.

We may not love our job, but we need the income.

We work on a website even when it’s tedious because we want a beautiful presence—or want to save money.

So I invite you to take an honest look:

What do you complain about again and again?

What frustrates you the most?

And then ask yourself:

Do I really have no choice?

Or could I change my attitude toward it?

What need am I meeting—consciously or unconsciously?

Maybe it won’t make things easier.

But it might make them more honest.

And perhaps, through that honesty, a little freer.

So back to my initial question: does life become easier when we follow our hearts?

Maybe not. Quite the opposite—especially at the beginning. We may encounter many challenges that discourage us, test us, and make us doubt our path. But perhaps these stumbling blocks are our teachers—checking whether we truly, deeply want this. Maybe we don’t need to change direction, but rather find a different path or a new way of walking it.

That’s why, in my view, it’s so essential to truly discover what we really, really want. Sometimes it helps to try everything possible just to learn what we don’t want—and that alone is a meaningful step.

From there, we can gradually build trust that clarity will emerge when the time is right. Not by waiting passively, but by taking action—here and now. Waiting for miracles can work sometimes, but real change usually requires movement, discipline, and commitment.

And above all, it requires that deep inner knowing—that quiet but unmistakable inner “yes.”

Maybe the following questions can support you when you think about if you really follow your inner voice:

• When was the last time you felt truly aligned with your life?

• What if the life you long for isn’t meant to be comfortable—but honest?

• Are you living the life you chose, or the life that felt safest?

• Where do you tell yourself you have “no choice”?

• Are your complaints pointing toward something you need to change?