Discussion Do ambitions only matter to you until you achieve them?

[Forever Sleep]

I've noticed this personally. Not that I've achieved all I aimed for in life by any means. But then, when I have achieved some things (mostly via a creative job,) they then weren't so much something to be proud of. There were still either things I still wasn't happy with or, they still weren't as good as they could have been or, as good as other people's achievements. Other people being pleased with the result would bring some relief but then, not totally.

To an extent, it's been good to have this. It meant there was never a sense of having accomplished enough so- there were then new things to strive for.

On the other hand though, not experiencing much joy from achieving certain goals means it makes you then question whether any other or higher goals are worth struggling towards. If none are going to bring satisfaction- why bother?

I suppose because there was also a sense of failure if I didn't try at all. Plus, the practical danger that I may have to return to a menial job that I would hate even more- I would and still do try.

More strangely, a boss of mine once commented that I shrugged compliments off- as if someone else had done the work. Partly, it's because I know there are far better people out there than me. People I would never reach their standard- no matter how hard I tried. So, their compliments didn't even feel that accurate.

Also though, being creative became my coping mechanism in a difficult period in childhood. It was my means of escaping this world. So, to some extent- I get lost in work. It's appealing because of that. Because- for some periods during that work, I was so preoccupied in what I was doing- it was more like I didn't exist for that period. I suppose then- complimenting that feels wrong because the need to try and escape this world in the first place is mal- adjusted. Why celebrate a trauma response- effectively?

Does anyone else experience this?

 

[Pluto]

 

[TransilvanianHunger]

My boy Schopenhauer talked about this quite often:

Eternal becoming, endless flux, belong to the revelation of the essential nature of the will. Finally, the same thing is also seen in human endeavours and desires that buoy us up with the vain hope that their fulfilment is always the final goal of willing. But as soon as they are attained, they no longer look the same, and so are soon forgotten, become antiquated, and are really, although not admittedly, always laid aside as vanished illusions. It is fortunate enough when something to desire and to strive for still remains, so that the game may be kept up of the constant transition from desire to satisfaction, and from that to a fresh desire, the rapid course of which is called happiness, the slow course sorrow, and so that this game may not come to a standstill, showing itself as a fearful, life-destroying boredom, a lifeless longing without a definite object, a deadening languor.

It's the cycle of existence, really. Constant striving, with no end point or final goal. Ambitions matter in so far as they give us something to pursue, but once the goal is attained, we naturally move on to the next thing.

not experiencing much joy from achieving certain goals means it makes you then question whether any other or higher goals are worth struggling towards. If none are going to bring satisfaction- why bother?

There is, I believe, a kind of liberation when you make peace with the fact that no final satisfaction exists, and we simply move from goal to goal endlessly. That old cliché about "it's the journey, not the destination" is not that far off, really—you can work towards a goal and enjoy the process of doing so, with no expectation of any lasting fulfilment at the end. You do it for the experience, not the result.

The problem is that we are told a lie constantly. Do this, and you'll make it. Achieve that, and you're set. Get a degree, a job, a spouse, a car, a mortgage, five children, a condo for your retirement, and you'll be living The Life™. Of course, it's all bollocks. Because there'll always be a higher-paying job, a nicer car, someone else's spouse will be hotter and more intelligent, and their children will be less annoying.

But none of it means that you can't do things, achieve things, and enjoy the process. In fact, that is probably the best thing you can do, as long as it is done with a clear mind, and without expectations of everlasting fulfilment.

 

[Apathy79]

Ambitions are fascinating things. I remember in high school. The first big ambition was to get a good score in year 12 so that I could get into Uni. 2 years of relentless focus on that goal. Then it happens. Get into Uni. But not dux of the school. Someone was better. That part is over. Now into Uni. The goal is to top the class. To get the best job at the end. After a year, realise that won't happen. The goal becomes to get the two degrees. Get that. Then get a masters. Get that. Then get another masters. Get that. 9 years at Uni. 2 bachelors. 2 masters. Now what does it all mean? Well it helps get the best job. Get that. Do it for 2 years. At this point I have done 12 years of school, 9 years of University, and 2 years in a high paying job. 23 years of my life. All leading to this point. This was the goal of all of it. And its achieved. Why don't I feel good about it? Well I'm not the best person in this job for a start. Others are progressing faster than me. And more disturbingly I feel like I have no time for anything else. 60-70 hour work weeks. Every week. And when I arrive every morning the 70+ yo partners are already there. And when I leave at night, they're still there. This never ends. I'm not the best. Not even close. And even if I was, the prize is 70+ hour weeks at this same desk until I'm 80.

Meanwhile I've met the woman of my dreams, fallen madly in love, been with her 4 years, and asked her to marry me, and she said yes! We've just bought a house together. All the lifelong ambitions are coming together. But yet something still feels off. Everything happens so fast. All I do is work. I come home and my fiance talks about our future, starting a family. I can't get my head around it. How on earth can I raise children. I can't get any time for myself right now as it is. But I love her. Maybe that will be enough? But it doesn't feel like enough now?

Then one day work just gets too much. I can't handle it. I leave at lunch and go for a long walk. And in that walk decide that I can't keep going like this. I decide to quit my job. To tell my fiance I can't have kids. And to go overseas for a few months. And everything I've built over those 23 years disappears overnight. My fiance leaves me. I quit my job. Sold the house. And I depart overseas alone. It becomes apparent that everything I strived for that whole time was an illusion. None of it meant anything. All I got out of it was a story to tell. This story. It's not even that interesting. Everything I own is in the backpack on my back in a foreign country where I don't know a soul, and all of those lofty goals achieved are now irrelevant. My school grades never mattered. Uni grades never mattered. Even passing never mattered. Finding the woman of my dreams and having her love me back didn't matter.

20 years on, I still feel like that guy with the backpack. Older now. But not much has changed. I have more stories since. Some of them I've still never got to tell anyone. I've achieved many more goals. Climbing certain mountains. Making certain money milestones. They're achieved and passed. No-one even knows they were goals or that they were achieved. I've long abandoned social media. Writing a book is next on the list and it's getting somewhere. Will anyone read it? Does it matter? If I've learned anything about ambition so far, no, it doesn't matter. It was never about the goal. It was always about the journey. I just didn't know it.

Looking back, I don't have many regrets. Despite the goals themselves ultimately being meaningless. They created the journey. Which has been OK all things considered. And half the story still needs to be written.

 

[Forever Sleep]

Ambitions are fascinating things. I remember in high school. The first big ambition was to get a good score in year 12 so that I could get into Uni. 2 years of relentless focus on that goal. Then it happens. Get into Uni. But not dux of the school. Someone was better. That part is over. Now into Uni. The goal is to top the class. To get the best job at the end. After a year, realise that won't happen. The goal becomes to get the two degrees. Get that. Then get a masters. Get that. Then get another masters. Get that. 9 years at Uni. 2 bachelors. 2 masters. Now what does it all mean? Well it helps get the best job. Get that. Do it for 2 years. At this point I have done 12 years of school, 9 years of University, and 2 years in a high paying job. 23 years of my life. All leading to this point. This was the goal of all of it. And its achieved. Why don't I feel good about it? Well I'm not the best person in this job for a start. Others are progressing faster than me. And more disturbingly I feel like I have no time for anything else. 60-70 hour work weeks. Every week. And when I arrive every morning the 70+ yo partners are already there. And when I leave at night, they're still there. This never ends. I'm not the best. Not even close. And even if I was, the prize is 70+ hour weeks at this same desk until I'm 80.

Meanwhile I've met the woman of my dreams, fallen madly in love, been with her 4 years, and asked her to marry me, and she said yes! We've just bought a house together. All the lifelong ambitions are coming together. But yet something still feels off. Everything happens so fast. All I do is work. I come home and my fiance talks about our future, starting a family. I can't get my head around it. How on earth can I raise children. I can't get any time for myself right now as it is. But I love her. Maybe that will be enough? But it doesn't feel like enough now?

Then one day work just gets too much. I can't handle it. I leave at lunch and go for a long walk. And in that walk decide that I can't keep going like this. I decide to quit my job. To tell my fiance I can't have kids. And to go overseas for a few months. And everything I've built over those 23 years disappears overnight. My fiance leaves me. I quit my job. Sold the house. And I depart overseas alone. It becomes apparent that everything I strived for that whole time was an illusion. None of it meant anything. All I got out of it was a story to tell. This story. It's not even that interesting. Everything I own is in the backpack on my back in a foreign country where I don't know a soul, and all of those lofty goals achieved are now irrelevant. My school grades never mattered. Uni grades never mattered. Even passing never mattered. Finding the woman of my dreams and having her love me back didn't matter.

20 years on, I still feel like that guy with the backpack. Older now. But not much has changed. I have more stories since. Some of them I've still never got to tell anyone. I've achieved many more goals. Climbing certain mountains. Making certain money milestones. They're achieved and passed. No-one even knows they were goals or that they were achieved. I've long abandoned social media. Writing a book is next on the list and it's getting somewhere. Will anyone read it? Does it matter? If I've learned anything about ambition so far, no, it doesn't matter. It was never about the goal. It was always about the journey. I just didn't know it.

Looking back, I don't have many regrets. Despite the goals themselves ultimately being meaningless. They created the journey. Which has been OK all things considered. And half the story still needs to be written.

Thank you for sharing your story and perspective. One thing I would ask is: If you hadn't worked so hard, and pursued your ambitions so fervently- do you suppose you would have regretted that decision? The whole: 'what if' lament.

That's what I tend to come back to. While I'm not convinced my choices were always great- had I not made them, I think I would have ended up equally miserable- if not more so- wondering how my alternative life would have turned out. I think we need to attain some hopes/ ambitions to realise it was maybe false/ misplaced hope all along (sometimes.)

I also think experience is valuable in life. Being told you may like or not like something is one thing but, it's not the same as experiencing a bunch of things to work out yourself- what your priorities and preferences are.

I'm sorry you didn't get the ending you were hoping for though. The 70+ hour week sounds familiar. If I were good enough and pushed myself enough to clinb to the top of my field, the working conditions would be the same. And- even if you enjoy your job- working for a company that demands that isn't necessarily a good experience. Your book sounds interesting to me. I hope the rest of it comes together well.

 

[Apathy79]

I probably would have regretted it yes. Almost certainly. Because how could I know it would ultimately be meaningless. So yes I probably avoided a worse misery through the achievement, or at least through having a decent crack at it. But a misery based partly in delusion. And I don't know that for sure. For all I know having never "achieved" some of those early things would have thrown me onto a far better path very early too.

I agree with you that it's useful to achieve the goals to find out they don't matter on some level. I've done that with education, work, money, love, climbing, hopefully soon a creative pursuit like you. The value as you say is in the experience and the path to get there, not in the achievement. And there's no amount of being told that is true that is useful either. I think it can only sink in with experience. It's too hard wired. I thought the "joy is in the journey not the destination" was wise when I was 15. And my life still turned out this way. Relentlessly pursuing destinations. Until it was drummed in so deep from experience.

Here's one example of the shift. I recently started reading the Mahabharata. Which is such an insanely long book. I may never finish it. Old me would never read something like this. Because the goal to finish it is unlikely to materialise. Or be in any way meaningful if it does. But it's so much more enjoyable to read a book without the goal of finishing it. I find I enjoy the experience of it. This bit may be all I get. And that's enough. Old me would rush over it because I need to get through 50 pages today to make progress towards the goal. And wouldn't enjoy it. I think that applies in so many areas. And is so poorly understood. I'm trying to take the same approach to writing.