To be, or not to be, ambitious
I relish my philosophical conversations with my father. They give me a kind of perspective that I often need. My dad quotes to me wisdom from the Bhagavad Gita, Shakespeare, Dale Carnegie, Mahatma Gandhi, and many others. In return, I tell him about the new things I learn from the books I read, and my experiences at work: topics ranging from neuroscience to leadership to human behavior to meaning in life.
Last week our conversation revolved around the perpetual dissatisfaction I feel with myself and my life. I told him how, no matter what goals I set for myself and how much success I have in achieving them, my heart is always tinged with dissatisfaction. Here I am, sitting in a spacious home with a partner that loves me, with no worry about where the next meal is coming from, working for a company that I truly believe in…and yet I don't feel satisfied with my life. "Why is that? And what should I do?" I asked.
I am grateful that my dad didn't just dismiss that as whining. "You and your problems of privilege," he could have said. Instead, he listened to me patiently. Then he said that I feel dissatisfied because that is how humans are supposed to feel. Just because we had a wonderful breakfast doesn't mean we would stop eating. We would feel hungry at night, and hungry again the next day. The constant craving and reaching for things will always be there.
"If you stop reaching for things," he said, "if you stop dreaming about your next goal, your next challenge, that is when you stop living."
That is a spectacular statement to make. But it is one that I find myself naturally drawn to. Despite the numerous reminders from society that ambition is not womanly - a woman needs to put family first, be a mother, be a caring wife/daughter etc. - I nurture within me a strong desire to make a difference in the world beyond my self and my family. It's also no surprise that my dad has that view. Let me tell you a bit about his life.
Imagine my dad as a scrawny boy growing up in the 50s and 60s in South India.
In the traditional Indian style, he lived with his extended family in his uncle's home. His uncle was the patriarch, and my father craved his attention and love. Like many Indian kids, he loved playing cricket with his friends. He loved his mother and his siblings. He loved the English language. From his mentors, he borrowed copies of Shakespeare, Wordsworth, and Thomas Hardy - not to read and enjoy the stories, but to learn new words. He entered every competition in his school. Even singing contests, never mind that my dad could hold a tune like a sieve can hold water.
When he was twenty, he found a job as a cashier in a big, nationalized bank. The yearning in his heart to be EXCELLENT would take him from that entry-level job to a very influential position in the thirty odd years he worked in the bank. A few years in, when he was thirty-seven, he lost his wife. His life threatened to unravel, and he had to work hard to keep it together. He dealt with his dazed and grieving little kids - me and my older brother. He managed a million money problems we faced. All the while, the fire inside him to improve himself didn't diminish. He continued learning and trying new things.
He would wake up at 4am and write poems in Tamil, and essays in English. He would read books, lots of them. Striving was my dad's constant condition. He strived to better himself every day. He strived to have more influence in his bank. He strived to raise kids to be learned, talented, respected, and successful.
Given that, it is not surprising my father finds ambition and drive in life to be as essential as breathing and blinking. But is my dad right? Do we stop living once we stop striving?
Let me give you another example from my family.
Enter my father's cousin, the son of the patriarch uncle of my father. My uncle grew up in a small town in South India called Kumbakonam. The town is renowned for its orthodox ways of living and its hundred temples. It is quiet and laid back - a serene place to make a life for yourself. Like my father, my uncle found a job as a teller in a bank. But unlike my father, he decided early on that ambition was NOT for him. He didn't want to be buffeted from one town to the next, which was de rigueur in a bank job. So he wrote a letter to his superiors stating that he didn't want to move out of Kumbakonam, and he didn't want to get promoted. It was a fair deal to make - "keep me here, even if it means you don't promote me". When he retired, my uncle was just slightly above the rank of a cashier.
My uncle is not unhappy, as far as I know. I did not know him to be unhappy when I lived in his house briefly during high school. He was contented, peaceful. His life took a different trajectory than my dad's, for sure. It was not marked by the insatiable ambition that was ever-present in my dad's life. He didn't have quite the same social capital as my father did over the years. He didn't touch the lives of as many people. But he raised a lovely, affectionate, happy, and well-functioning daughter. He saved enough money for his retirement. He lived an unexciting but peaceful life, and he continues to live quietly in the same town with his wife.
So what is the best way to live?
Should you constantly strive and set newer and bigger goals for yourself, like my dad did? Or should you search for peace and try to be satisfied with what you have?
After my conversation with my dad last week, I reflected on my own. Both our conversation and my own reflection gave me more clarity. I have come to the realization that, while it's hard to resist the need for a clear answer, it is not a one-size-fits-all. Finding that answer for yourself requires inner work. You, like my father, can repeatedly set and pursue goals, even if it means constantly facing the demon of dissatisfaction. Knowing the terrain of your journey - that being let down by success is inevitable - is great knowledge to have. But you can, with equal validity, choose contentment like my uncle did.
Reflect often on what kind of life you want to live from here on out. Think about what will give you joy. Once you find that answer in your heart, accept the consequences - emotional and material - of it. Do not worry about what others are doing or saying. Regardless of your gender/race/sexual orientation, you can have a great life being ambitious. Just as equally, you can do the opposite. Do not compare yourself with others. Your choice is just as good as theirs. The key is to make that choice intentionally, make it as often as needed, and not let the currents of life carry you hither and tither.
As William Ernest Henley said, how wonderful it is to be the master of your fate, and the captain of your soul!