I came across this video on TikTok saying that as you heal, you lose much of the ambition you initially had. I almost scrolled when I heard that statement. Something inside me was triggered. What does she mean that I become less ambitious as I heal? Isn’t ambition the whole point of living? It has always been associated with discipline and everything good in regards to character. Everyone wants to be called ambitious, and those who are, are celebrated by society. At least that’s what I used to think.
I’ve encountered many people who were surrounded by such notions. The ideas began with their parents, and justly so. The advancement of humanity came with shifts in mentality, and certain things that were once prevalent in older generations aren’t applicable in younger ones. Our parents knew that education was the only pathway to success. So they spent so much time and money acquiring the highest level of education. As it would be, they gained higher-paying jobs and grew in status. Education became a tested and proven tool for success.
Consequently, they imposed such ideas on their children. But times had changed. The world now values the quality of education, not necessarily the multitude of accolades. For example, workplaces go beyond the certificates candidates have. Instead, they look into people’s ability to execute the tasks they’re applying for, and the soft skills to thrive in a multi-faceted work environment.
This shift changed a lot of perceptions in young adults. Our parents were trying to accommodate the new and the old at the same time. They wanted to embrace careers outside the traditional lifestyle and raise children using the traditional values that modernity had rendered obsolete. Women were particularly in great peril. They needed to advance their careers and rear children according to standards that society had established, standards that were frankly impossible. As a result, many ended up with a disjoint in outcomes. They either became very good housewives and abandoned their pursuits, or they succeeded in their careers, but their children were broken.
This isn’t an effort to discourage the achievement of both. It’s an encouragement to abandon the pressure imposed on us by society to achieve perfection according to their rules.
I used to think that if I worked multiple jobs, woke up at five, and slept for exactly six hours or less, then I would achieve the success I wanted. Actually, I did that in school. The system was established to encourage hardship. If it wasn’t limiting your access to a soft life, it was denying you free will. The teachers worked tirelessly to ensure we suffered the greatest injustice for whatever damn reason they had. Till today, I think it was completely unnecessary to go through all that treatment.
As I transitioned into adulthood, I noticed that some of the mentalities imposed on me by school had seeped into different aspects of life. As early as my first year in university, I began looking for work and poured my whole self into it. I wanted to become the very best at my craft, and I spent time perfecting it. However, as life would have it, I became extremely anxious and nerve-wrecked. Ultimately, I failed to achieve the success I had been desperately chasing.
The change that occurred then wasn’t strong enough to stop me in my tracks. I still had the debris of that ambition in me. When the right opportunities presented themselves, I picked up where I left off. I rejoined the rat race. Every morning, I woke up early and worked to exhaustion. In the evening, I had to keep up with my studies. These studies were a way to achieve something that I had always wanted. I had the idea that once I achieved that thing, I would finally be worthy. I would gain the satisfaction that I always craved.
The same attitude went to my exercise. I would work out even on days when I was unwell. I was fixated on the goal, and there was no time to rest. Rest felt like a luxury that I could not afford. For some reason, I thought I’d rest when I was older, richer, and more satisfied. However, now I know that was an illusion. Once you join the rat race, you will only rest when you get into the grave. Every new level will come with new ambitions. You open yourself up to an insatiable monstrosity of hunger that can never be satisfied.
As God would have it, my limbs broke and I could run no more. I was exhausted. I was so tired of chasing the wind and trying to reach out to passing moments. So I gave up. I relinquished control over the future. I was tired of being anxious about something that did not exist. I needed to rest and breathe.
And so the air rushed into my lungs and my gaunt being came back to life. My spine straightened, and my eyes lifted up. I remembered habits that brought me significant joy, like staring mindlessly into space. No longer did I judge myself for supposedly wasting time on things that brought me joy and satisfaction. I was not guilty for sleeping for a good eight hours and waking up rejuvenated and energized to face the day. I was not afraid to enjoy my favorite shows, no matter how long they were. I did not fear turning down invites to places and people that made me uncomfortable.
I began living the dream that always seemed far away. If I waited till I was older, I would not have the strength to rejoice over these mundane things. So now I breathe and listen to the rhythm of my chest as it processes the air. I spend as much time at the gym as I like with no need to rush between sets. I take naps frequently during the day to give me energy to do what I enjoy. I take courses that I enjoy and at the pace that I deem worth it. I no longer have the desire to be known by many or to own the entire world. I want just enough to sustain the peaceful and quiet life I want.