My love-hate relationship with ambition

The bookshelf dilemma

Midjourney: Watercolour painting of a man flying and crashing into a bookshelf with fireworks in the background

Last Sunday, I found myself standing in front of my bookshelf, agonising over what to read next.

On one end, there was 'Zero to One' by Peter Thiel, a book promising to unlock the secrets of startup innovation, a must-read for anyone in the tech world—a siren call to my ambitions.

On the other end was 'Siddhartha' by Hermann Hesse, a philosophical journey toward self-discovery and contentment.

My choice of book wasn't just about what to read. It symbolizes the constant tension between my ambition to achieve status and prestige and my longing to find peace and contentment.

It's one of the hardest things I'm dealing with at the moment & I find the tension frustrating.

Rocket Fuel Diaries

I've been up so many nights thinking about how I balance this innate, inbuilt desire to strive for things just out of reach and at the same time, learn to chill the f*** out and be grateful for what I have.

But can you really do both?

The truth is, I find this type of balance hard. I've been an all-or-nothing type of guy for most of my life. And ambition has been my rocket fuel, propelling me forward.

However, the problem with rocket fuel is that it doesn't discriminate.

It will blast you just as fast into the stratosphere as it will into a brick wall.

I learned the hard way that ambition left unchecked can make you want things you don't want, make you want things you don't need, and if you're not careful, make you become somebody you don't want to become.

How do I know? Well I had plans of becoming an innovator. A startup founder who created and "disrupted" the health technology scene with an idea that would revolutionize people's mental health. The idea would be different. I would be different.

I felt myself crafting an entire identity based on being a founder. I felt it in my bones.

The crowds would part like Moses parting the Red Sea to acknowledge my accomplishment.

The Ego Trap

But it all came crashing down. At first, it was a trickle of questions, easy queries that could be shrugged off with a confident laugh and a wave of the hand. 'Have you considered the market fit?' 'What's your plan for scalability?' 'How are you different from existing solutions?' Standard fare, really, in the world of startups. But then the questions got sharper, more piercing, touching nerve centres I hadn't even known existed.

It was as if the questions were forming a chorus from an Italian opera in my mind, the collective voice growing louder and louder until they drowned out the song of ambition that had lured me all along.

The glamour was fizzing out like a sugar cube in hot water when I realized I had fallen in love with everything else other than the problem my startup was trying to solve.

I hate to say it, but I was more infatuated with the idea of being a founder and the status and prestige that comes with it rather than building something worthwhile.

I remember feeling hot and clammy as if something had sat on my chest and sucked all the air out of me. How could I have let this happen!!!

How many other times has my ambition got the best of me and made me chase things I didn't want to because of how it would be perceived.

I felt like an idiot.

The Illusory Ladders We Climb

We're told this narrative to chase the dream at all costs, even if it's not your dream to begin with. We're told to aim for prestigious jobs, seek relationships that look good on paper, and curate an Instagram-perfect life under the guise of ego, status, and ambition.

But there's a growing tide of discontent I'm seeing. People question whether their ladder of success is leaning against the wrong wall.

So now, I'm trying to discover what the right wall is and learning to chill out in the process.

I've begun practising self-inquiry, an advaita vedanta method of meditation that starts by asking yourself, "Who am I?" And exploring where my attention goes.

I've found it works well. I've been doing it for a few months now, and I've noticed a slow and gradual change in my reaction to my external world. I'm less in my head and up in the air with my thoughts. I feel more grounded. I notice when I get sad or excited. I don't feel like I'm living life on autopilot anymore.

But, it's been hard to adjust. I have a lot of FOMO.

The rocket fuel is still here. Waiting to propel.

The Unlikely Heroes of My Happiness

The good thing is that I'm starting to distinguish between what my ambition wants versus what I'm naturally drawn to. Instead of tech conferences, meet ups and the allure of high-status networking, I'm becoming content with things I would've perceived as low status initially but are making me really happy, like an ordinary evening at home, absorbed in a novel by Cormac McCarthy or diving deep into the teachings of Ramana Maharshi.

These activities might not hold the same societal clout, but they stir something within me that I've come to appreciate.

So here I am again, standing in front of my bookshelf. Thiel on one end, speaking to the part of me that wants to shake the world; Herman Hesse on the other who is whispering to the part that seeks tranquillity. And you know what? In this moment of choice, it finally hits me.

The ultimate disruption isn't about choosing between ambition and peace. It's about redefining the scale on which success is measured. It's about choosing a ladder that leans on more than just worldly ambitions. It leans on the wisdom and stillness that comes from knowing yourself. And in that quiet realization, I find an entirely new dimension of success—one that feels like a win.