A Case Against Striving
A lot happened in the past six months — moving continents with my family, shifting houses and transitioning between jobs. The to-do lists were long and unending. Unforeseen externalities threw me into reactive, fight mode multiple times. This unfolded alongside the everyday responsibilities of parenting, work and household chores.
Recognising my physical and mental fatigue, I made time for a month-long break between jobs. I was tempted to set up a routine and re-commit to my well-being rituals, writing and learning. Thankfully, I chose to do none of these things. I resisted the voice of judgment, telling me I was not being productive enough, not learning enough, and ironically, even not resting and recovering enough. Instead, I took things one day at a time. I did what I felt like — speaking to a friend, watching a movie, cooking a nice meal, biking, reconnecting with my partner, watching the sky, or taking extra naps.
Reflections from a Restful Place
Alongside, I chose to observe what was emerging for me. I paused more frequently, tuning into how I was feeling and thinking. I had been on a treadmill of ‘doing’ and struggled to step off it. Every time I finished one task, I would start thinking about “What else am I missing? What more needs to get done?” I would fill any idle time with planning or with household chores. I was feeling restless and inadequate. I was unable to let go of my need for control and perfection. My inner critic was telling me that “I am not good enough.”
I had fallen back into my old ways of ‘striving’. For most of my life, I have believed that my worth comes from my achievements and the validation I receive from others. If I am not getting somewhere, I am wasting my life. I have inherited this perspective from our modern, urban, capitalistic society. It worked for me until it stopped making sense in the face of the great unravelling and my inner journey.
I had deepened my awareness of my conditioning and let go of many patterns over the last five years. I relapsed into the old ways thanks to the recent transitions, risking another burnout.
The pause was a welcome space to course-correct.
On Striving
I rediscovered a few questions that helped me examine my recent choices:
- When I go a mile a minute, what is the progress I am genuinely making? What is the inner place I am operating from?
- What is the cost of ‘striving’? What are my emotional needs that I am leaving unmet in the process?
- What will I remember 10 or 25 years from now? What will be worth remembering?
- What is the embodied wisdom in nature?
When I go a mile a minute, what is the progress I am genuinely making? What is the inner place I am operating from?
When I rushed from one thing to another, I was not bringing my best self to each activity. I was getting things done, but I wasn’t questioning if I was doing them right, whether these were the right things to do, and how I was arriving at them in the first place. There was little place for building self or ecosystemic awareness and reconnecting with a deeper purpose.
While I thought I was being productive, I was acting out fear and scarcity. What if something went wrong? What if I don’t have time later? What if I lost out on an opportunity? What if I spend more than budgeted?
Every transformation begins with embodied intentionality. Through the pause, I could reframe these questions: What if I operated from a place of love instead of fear? What if I lived with abundance and trusted the universe? What if I maintained faith in my safe and supportive relationships?
What is the cost of ‘striving’? What are my emotional needs that I am leaving unmet in the process?
Like I said, I was intentionally unproductive in the break, surrendering to the moment. I opened a window for emergence and was surprised with the gifts.
Discovering the rainbow helped me experience beauty. Walking under the trees made me feel harmonious. Watching the full moon reconnected me with the universe. Visiting the park with my daughter brought joy and playfulness to me. Even staying up all night comforting her through chest congestion made me feel trusted and connected despite the physical drain.
It is not that I was not doing some of these things earlier, but I was not savouring them enough. I was not giving these emotions space to linger in my awareness. As a result, I would barely remember these positive moments at the end of the day, over all the things I couldn’t or had to do.
When I chose to notice, I felt whole and grateful. When I didn’t, I felt frustrated and unaccomplished.
What will I remember 10 or 25 years from now? What will be worth remembering?
The last six months have helped us build a life in a new country. However, very little I struck off from my to-do list stayed with me. Instead, I remember:
- My daughter’s laughter and her tears
- My conversation with my friend when she felt seen and heard
- The moment my community stood up for what is right and saw beyond the polarities
- How alive I was to my senses while biking on a cold rainy day
- An experience I co-created from a place of love and authenticity
Operating from a place of inner silence and presence brings happiness and meaning in daily life, even on difficult days. Striving from an egocentric place doesn’t, even if disguised under benevolent intentions of saving the world or helping others. Striving doesn’t even work in the face of escaping everyday suffering.
What is the embodied wisdom in nature?
Nature has its cycles and rhythms. Seasons come and go. Life goes on at its own pace, adapting to the changing circumstances. No other being is in a hurry, and no one is trying to be something they are not!
I had time to reconnect with nature and, through it, with these fundamental truths. I realised that the story of our planet is one of acceptance and an affirmation of life. Who am I to question it or fight it?
Our species’ modern ways are very recent, but they are out of sync with Mother Earth. The story I grew up with is misaligned with the ways of life. Striving is not natural but only a coping response.
Our existence on a living planet was not a statistical guarantee. We are miracles, born out of stardust, taking the shape of a conscious, living being. To be alive and to witness the wonder of life is a gift. Isn’t this worth remembering? Isn’t that enough? (inspired by the words of Maria Popova)
Closing Thoughts
Striving to escape this loop of doing would have increased my inner judgment and extended my suffering. Instead, I made progress by just witnessing myself with kindness. I listened and observed. I gave myself time. I surrounded myself with people who understood this process and reaffirmed my choice. It is not that I dropped the intention to heal, but I was not attached to the outcome of the process. There was no judgment, and there was no rush. I chose to surrender, which made all the difference to my recovery.
I invite you to reflect on:
- What are you striving for?
- What impact is it having on you? When are you judging or criticising yourself or others in the process?
- What is the inner place you are operating from? What would you like it to be instead?
Notes:
I wanted to capture these learnings on the last vacation day to remind myself when I return to my old ways. This post is personal and straight from the heart.
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