Aren’t you tired of striving?
In preparing for my meditation this morning, I came across this quote:
“When we strive to become better than we are, everything around us becomes better too.”
It got me thinking — as quotes are meant to do. I love quotes. A little bite of something to chew on and digest in a way you might not have had you not come across it.
The word “strive” felt kind of sticky. On its surface, the quote sounds nice. The idea of always wanting and working to be better sounds nice. The feeling that if we are constantly moving towards better, then our environment will do the same is also really cool. I mean, who wouldn’t want that?
But then, that word — Strive — grabs me again
Frankly, I’m tired of striving. I’m tired of the story that I am never good enough exactly as I am. I’m tired of the teaching that we should always and forever be working towards some goal that exists just beyond the horizon. Therefore, we have to just keep moving. Keep pushing. Keep growing. Keep learning and doing and striving, for more. It is the American dream. Bigger is better. More and more is what we need. It’s capitalism.
It’s deep in our bones, this desire to improve
This need really, to be more than what we already are. If you think about it, that message is actually quite sinister. You are not enough. And because of that, keep striving. Keep working towards some undefined and probably unreachable end. More. Better. Keep striving for that something which you are not.
And some defenders of that way might say, Oh, so you want us to be lazy? Oh, so you’re saying we shouldn’t want to improve ourselves! That doesn’t sound right either.
Because it isn’t. That’s a very either/or way of looking at this. I deeply believe that humans have a natural desire to grow. Like sunflowers who turn their faces towards the sun, we too naturally lean towards growth. We are drawn to it. That’s why we’ve made so many huge advances. That’s why we have the internet, medicine, and spaceships.
It doesn’t have to be either/or
The thing is, we don’t have to feel that we are not enough in order to put energy into growing. We don’t have to beat ourselves up or criticize or feel inadequate in order to push ourselves to learn and expand and do amazing things. The problem that comes with that way of thinking and feeling is that we miss out on so much. We miss the beautiful moments of being. We miss enjoying the fruits of our labor.
We miss out on having a good and whole life just because we are alive.
There’s nothing wrong with wanting more. But we often don’t even know what more is. We just know, because we’ve been told, that we need it. And when we get more, we aren’t satisfied because often, the more we get isn’t actually what we were looking for — we just fell into what the culture told us.
Make it bigger, make it newer. Buy the latest gadget because it’s more than what you have.
It’s exhausting.
What might you discover in the absence of striving?
So maybe, just maybe, you might play with the idea of not striving. It might feel weird. It might feel uncomfortable. But what would I do with myself? You might ask. Well, that’s the beauty of it. If you aren’t striving for something someone else told you you should be striving for, I wonder what you might discover?
In this moment, I am pausing
I sit facing the window that looks into our backyard. Through the sunshine’s honey glow, I see the green of the leaves on the trees. I notice that today, after heatwaves and massive rains, the weather is gorgeous. It’s just right. Mid 70’s with low humidity. The sun is out and there’s a light breeze so the branches are dancing ever so slowly. The crepe myrtle still has just a few raspberry blooms before fall comes and the leaves turn brown. I hear the chatter of birds as my dogs lie sleeping and snoring on the rug.
In this moment, my world is good and I don’t actually need anything more. I am enough and it is enough and together, this is a whole life. When I fall into striving, I miss these moments. And missing them means I am not nourishing myself. I miss out on the possibility of this moment. It doesn’t change all the things on my list, except that actually, it does. Or, not the things on my list but me, and how they feel to me.
This moment feeds me in a way that more does not. In a way that striving does not. This moment fuels me and supports me. It grounds me and reminds me that I am enough. When I remember that, my list is different. It feels lighter. It’s just a part of this big beautiful life rather than all the insurmountable things I need to do to get to more. I’m already there.
And so are you.
