Ambition

As soon as I saw the email come in, I felt a familiar flip-flop in my belly. That twisting feeling of anxiety. The email wasn’t bad, that’s the thing. It asked if I’d be interested in working on a project. It would be a good move, career-wise; it would lead to peer recognition, academic achievement, success. But the pit in my stomach was because I knew my answer was no. 

Saying no isn’t easy for me. It’s something I’ve been working on. I remind myself that no is a complete sentence, that explanations and qualifications are not required. I felt able to say no to the email. But I also felt the need to examine why I wanted to say no, and why it was okay to do that. What were the consequences of saying no?

Years ago, before moving north, I regularly cried on my way to the university where I was teaching. Granted, I am a crier, so this wasn’t really all that profound. Watching marathon finishers? I cry. Listening to live music? Tears stream down my face. Seeing an elderly couple holding hands? You guessed it. But I digress. On my way to work, I was crying because I wasn’t really doing what I wanted to do with my life, but at the same time, I was aware that the vision I had of my “ideal” life was dreadfully banal. Still, it ran through my mind, the same vision every time. It was a house. A somewhat rundown, old white farmhouse with a huge oak tree to one side. A simple home, tidy enough. And it was mine. And my job in that ideal life? Cashier at a little grocery store. There you have it. Tenure-track was not part of the dream.

These days, my life isn’t all that different from the image I had in my mind every day on my drive to work. There’s no oak tree and we don’t live in a farmhouse, but where we live and how we live is relatively simple. I don’t work as a cashier in a grocery store, but in addition to my work at the school, I’ve recently picked up some janitorial work. Such is the life in a small community. Opportunities revolve around the ordinary needs of everyday life. I like what I do and I am certain that the work I do here is not the work I would be doing if I still lived in the city.

I suppose that’s the struggle I have. It’s the push and pull of feeling as though on the one hand, I lack ambition, and, on the other hand, I’m okay with that. The other day, a friend and I chatted about the idea of success and ambition. She’s always been driven by career aspirations and goals – constantly seeking out new and more challenging opportunities. Isn’t that the purpose of life, she mused. For me, no, I thought. Perhaps that’s a privileged thing to feel. Like I don’t have to constantly strive for the next great opportunity. Or maybe it’s just laziness, a failure or refusal to feel motivated and be defined by the things society tells us we should reach for.

Those confusing and conflicting feelings were what surfaced when my head said yes and my gut said no to what was offered in the email. One part of me – maybe my ego, mostly – told me that I’d be a fool to turn down the opportunity. Saying no to this would be like closing the door, officially, to the years I’d put into receiving a doctorate. This ran through my mind even though I felt it was unlikely I’d want to continue in that field. My head told me I ought to take the opportunity for the recognition, the esteem, the message it gave about my worth. And then, at the same time, another part of me pushed back. Its rebuttal suggesting that I value, or want to value, things beyond ‘career’. But was that a cop out? An excuse to exist in mediocracy?

As I contemplated the offer in the email and my reaction to it, the vision of the old farmhouse with the oak tree rose, unbidden. I looked at it closely to determine whether or not it was a self-deceptive mirage. The vision suggested a peaceful life. A life connected to community and to nature and to myself. It seemed to align with how I aspire to lead my life these days. Is there inherent richness in a life that isn’t defined by career, or is this kind of life aimless and bland? My friend wants to change the world with her work. She wants to do good and make positive advancements. Meanwhile, I want to connect to nature. Hm.

The examination of self is lifelong and, it seems to me that it’s perhaps increasingly difficult and therefore increasingly important. We are barraged with messages about self-worth. Mixed messages. Messages that encourage us to achieve and reach and expand our horizons professionally, freeze our eggs to keep options open as we rush to advance our careers, apply for the next level, next degree, next job. And messages that have us buying watches and rings to connect with our inner wellbeing, methods to destress and focus on the here and now, slow food, detox, destination spas, nature. Messages of success that equal monetary wealth. And messages of success that equal slowing down.

Can both be true? What is success?

We’re told that purpose and success are tied to what we achieve, to ambition, and to the ways we’re recognized. But what if we’d rather explore the richness of a life not defined by a career? What if we’d rather focus on community connection, nature, relationships, creative work, and personal fulfillment? What if an ordinary job suits us because it allows us to pay attention to the everyday?

I said no to the offer in the email. I felt relieved and proud when I sent the response. All those years ago, when I drove to work, I dreamt of a simple life, and that’s exactly how I feel I’m living now. I suppose the beauty of life is that we are all driven and motivated to achieve different things. Ambition evolves and looks different for us all. Maybe success is life that matches our individual truths. For my friend this is the competition of career achievement, for me this means pulling back. Success is internal. Knowing that is one thing, listening to that inner wisdom is another. So we go on, each of us in our own way, continuing to strive.