I’ve been described as someone with more drive than they know what to do with, a sort of ambitious overachiever. Why strive for so much? Why seek mastery when it’s already “okay”? Why do and attempt so much, when you could just let life happen, go with the flow, take things as they are, and simply react to life circumstances?
Questions like that used to bother me; I still hear their deadly whispers in my weaker moments.
But those who balk at the exceptional are those who’ve already accepted mediocrity. Such a being I am not, and never will be.
When surprise, disbelief, skepticism, and criticism is your default reaction to high-level performance in any field, it demonstrates the territory you’ve chosen to make your comfortable home in–the dead and stagnant land of “Good Enough”.
Comfortable and safe such a resting place for your soul it may seem, crippled soul–but choosing to remain in such a home renders you thoroughly vulnerable and worthy of inhumane pity.
Yet drive and ambition is not the answer. Yes, you may accomplish much, you may reach each ever-so-lofty goal–but such accomplishments are empty without intentional thanksgiving and a conscious appreciation for the journey taken.
To only be content is to scorn its very essence; to only be ambitious is to lead a scorched life.
The balance lies in being content with growth, and nothing less.