Defining Our Pursuits

A while ago, I added this to my principles — "At this stage of my life, the right goal is to not chase a reward, e.g. money or accreditation. The right goal is to upscale and upskill myself, to become a better person. Whether it's in my career or training, I want to chase excellence."

Like other principles, this reads well on paper. And yet, I deviate from it every now and then. I was reflecting in my journal today on how my blogging frequency has changed—from three times a week to once every ten days, or even less. Why? Because I started prioritising other things—things I had to, like the job search.

Now, while that was a deviation from the principle of chasing excellence, I could justify doubling down on the job search as a pragmatic choice. But as that phase started to wrap up, I recently noticed myself getting too attached to the outcome again—which, ironically, was never the idea to begin with. Regardless of how things turn out, the point was to stay action-oriented, not outcome-driven. To do the right things (which are often hard), and to build steadily toward a long-term goal rather than short-term rewards. It’s like taking the stairs instead of the elevator. Both might get you to the top, but the stairs, though harder, are often the safer, more reliable option in the long run. That’s why they say “use stairs in case of emergency,” right? Maybe there are better analogies, but that one works for now :)

Many people advocate delayed gratification. As we get older, it becomes even more crucial to define what we’re actually pursuing. Quick highs are easier to get than ever before—but they don’t last long. Worse, they tend to give away our control and render us powerless. Whether it’s checking email first thing in the morning, scrolling social feeds, following stock market swings—these things may give us small hits of dopamine, but they also carry equal power to derail us.
The same logic applies to the bigger decisions in life—like choosing a job, or even a life partner. We have to ask ourselves: Is the high-paying job worth the compromises it demands in my personal life? Is the partner who gives me butterflies today likely to support and ground me through the hard stuff tomorrow?
The bigger the decision, the more important it becomes to pause and ask—what exactly am I chasing, and why?

I’ve found this kind of questioning especially useful in another area of my life—training. When I’m preparing for a goal, a seemingly big and demanding thing, I often have hard sessions—sessions that do feel brutal sometimes. And during those, I sometimes ask: What if nobody ever found out about this? Would I still push this hard?

If you’re being honest with yourself, it’s a hard question to answer. Maybe even harder than the training itself. But it’s worth it. That question has helped me recalibrate some parts of my training, and, my life. Of course, it’s not a one-time fix. The default patterns (often destructive ones) can creep back in. That’s why I keep writing, keep reflecting, and trying to better myself. The process of recalibrating is something I have to return to again and again. But the more I do, the better I get.
And maybe that’s the point. There’s nowhere specific to reach, but with every honest reflection, with every reset, we move closer to a version of ourselves that is calmer, clearer, and more in charge of our lives. A version that doesn’t crumble easily. A version that knows what it’s really chasing—and why.