We’ve accelerated so much that we forgot how to stop.
Now, more than ever, it’s important to define what’s enough for us. How much do we need? How much money, space, recognition, power, and status?
In a time when you can build anything with AI, create your own “economy” based on your personal brand through social media, or get the best education in history thanks to all the information online, it’s important we define when it’s enough.
There are two problems that fuel this endless pursuit of more: comparison and opportunities.
Comparison
For anything meaningful I’ve accomplished, there are probably hundreds of people who have accomplished more, sometimes even faster, and they’re on the Internet showing off. The scale makes sense: you share what you do, and thousands, or even millions of people can see you.
But the numbers also play against us, as individuals. Anyone probably knows dozens of people who are “better” at whatever they’re pursuing than they are, becasue of the Internet.
Opportunities
The other piece of the fuel for our endless pursuit of doing more is the countless opportunities we have. Having a computer connected to the Internet is like receiving a menu with too many options in a good restaurant where you don’t know what to choose, and end up wondering if the other options were better instead of enjoying what you got.
You can become famous with a viral video, sell anything online, or connect with anyone in the world. You can even build apps without technical knowledge thanks to AI, there’s always more to do.
A way out
The problem is that we can do so much that no matter what we do, we’ll always feel we’re falling behind, because there are things we’re not doing, and even the things we do, there are people who are doing better (or projecting they are). So, when is enough?
I have the answer: never.
It’s like in SnowPiercer, we’re on a high-speed train that goes on a circular track around the world because if you stop, you might die. But the train doesn’t take you anywhere; you always end up where you started.
It’s a game where we’ll be forever looking for the next thing to accomplish, the next milestone, the next possession or promotion, the next financial achievement, and yet, we’ll never be satisfied.
But this is not a game; it’s our life, and, unlike in games, we only have one chance.
What’s the solution, then?
Well, it’s very simple, but not easy: to stop playing. To hop off the high-speed train that will take us nowhere, other than to more frustration and anxiety because we haven’t achieved “enough”, and to start enjoying the scenery.
Being grateful and appreciating what we have can only happen when we stop. To notice what’s worth and beautiful in this world is only possible if we’re not “locked in”.
The train will keep moving whether you’re on it or not. Perhaps learning to stop isn’t giving up; it’s finally arriving.