on striving

i'm not entirely sure how to begin this piece.

i guess i'll start by saying that i recently had the incredible honor to attend a program in dc.

to be clear, i'm incredibly, eternally grateful for the opportunity. if given the chance to go back and change my decisions, i would still choose to attend again and again. i enjoyed my time there, met amazing people from all 50 states, and had surprisingly good food.

but this piece is less about the program itself than it is about how i learned and grew as a person as a result of attending -- and perhaps not in the ways you'd expect.

what i've been reflecting on recently is how the program forced me to critically re-examine my relationship with striving. how does it manifest? why do i do it? what makes me feel the constant need to keep going, keep putting in my all, even when it hurts me? what are the underlying beliefs that drive this behavior? and is this healthy?

(spoiler alert: no. but we'll pretend we didn't see that.)

note: inspired by a conversation with JH

how does striving manifest for me?
it feels like a discomfort with stillness -- but even more broadly, with not doing.

in social settings, i sometimes struggle to relax because i have this nagging feeling that i should be doing something more productive. i should be working on one of the countless projects that require my attention. i didn't earn this free time; i haven't done enough to warrant enjoying it because i wasted so much time before this.

(this sounds worse than it actually is. this doesn't apply to every social situation. to be clear, i am fine. i still regularly yap with friends for four-hour-long calls, so i'm by no means suffering in the socialization department.)

i guess the best way to describe this would be "toxic productivity."

it's a deeply uncomfortable feeling that i am never doing enough.

why do i feel the need to constantly strive?
on some level, when i approach a situation where there's an opportunity to strive -- like running for president at this simulated government program -- i feel fear. not necessarily that i will fail, but that i will regret not having tried at all. i fear that i'll look back on this moment and think, "i wish i would have at least tried." i fear thinking about all the what-ifs that result from not putting in my best effort.

but, crucially, even when i do try, i'm rarely able to put in my best effort, because i try at so many things simultaneously. at this program, for example, i was concurrently juggling a research program and two college courses while attempting to write campaign speeches.

during the little free time we had, i had no chance to network with other delegates -- i was too busy finishing college coursework (including a 12-page term paper) or working on my research paper.

i won't sugarcoat it -- the program was, at times, incredibly difficult for me. some days, we'd get back to the dorms at 11pm and have to wake up at 5:30am -- which is 2:30am pst. i was also still jetlagged from a trip to japan, so my internal clock was completely out of whack.

on one particularly grueling day, i remember getting to my room at 11pm, working on classes until 2am, spending another half hour writing my next campaign speech, showering, and ultimately getting to bed around 3am. i got about three hours of sleep; the next day was spent running around meetings on capitol hill. it was, in short, brutal.

what are the underlying beliefs that drive this behavior?
some beliefs i think i hold:

i need to prove myself. (not to anyone else, necessarily, but to me.)

• why? unsure. perhaps because i spent so much time as a kid comparing myself to others and feeling terrible for it.

• at what point would i feel that i have sufficiently proven myself? it seems no matter what i accomplish, there is always more to do.

embedded in the need to prove myself is a belief that i am currently not good enough.

• why? i think i can answer this one. on some level, i hold the belief that the image i project to others is fraudulent. people look at all the things i've done and admire how hard i work and how much i push myself, but i'm the only person who sees just how much time each day is wasted.

• but i also just generally don't give myself enough credit for times when i actually do work hard. i finish a paper the day it's due and think, "i should have started this earlier instead of putting it off," instead of thinking, "wow sophie, great job finishing this 12-page term paper especially considering that you've been traveling nonstop this summer."

• i'm hoping this belief will change as i continue to work on my work ethic.
  

without my work, what am i? not nothing, necessarily, but perhaps nothing special.

• i actually don't think this is fully untrue, even now. i take pride in what i do and find satisfaction and happiness in my various projects. honestly, nothing makes me feel better than having worked on something i'm passionate about.

• i do consider my projects and the things i do integral to my personality and sense of self.

• i do derive intrinsic enjoyment and satisfaction from working on things.

what exactly is the end goal?

i was asked this recently by someone i briefly met -- and i'm not sure why, but this time, i continued thinking about my answer for days after. perhaps it's because of the way the question was worded. usually, when people ask you about your goals, it's something like "what do you hope to achieve in your life?" and that sort of question almost invites a sugarcoated answer. but this question felt more direct.

so, i've already discussed some of the push factors that drive this behavior, but what about pull factors?

my immediate answer to the person who asked was something along the lines of wanting to do important work and help the world and make a difference, likely influenced by the fact that gen z overall is just more impact-oriented than previous generations.

thinking about it more, though, i think there's also a sense of obligation to... for lack of better wording, justify my existence? i was talking about something similar back in june with a friend (JH again) specifically about going to a summer program and feeling like there was no point in my being there. i had already gotten into college; my parents had told me they didn't care either way and just wanted to make sure i wouldn't be stressed; in the end, i almost didn't go because of an injury the night i left; and then i ended up there feeling like i was there, but had no purpose.

on some level, i wanted to add meaning to my being there, which motivated me to get much more involved than i otherwise might have (which ironically led to the trip to dc).

i think the same could be true for my philosophy on life in general. i don't exactly know why i'm here, but i want it to be for a meaningful reason, so i want to do meaningful things.

it reminds me, somewhat, of the puritans' belief in predestination: they thought that doing good works would serve as evidence of their having been saved.

we are all predestined for either heaven or hell → those who are predestined for heaven are good → they do good work → thus if i do good work, it is evidence that i am destined for heaven

while it's by no means the same, it is somewhat similar:

i don't know why i'm here → i want to add meaning to why i am here → i think doing meaningful things will add meaning → i want to do meaningful things

i guess the major difference would be that i don't necessarily think there is predetermined meaning, a set path for my life. i don't think i'm trying to show a specific prescribed meaning -- i'm trying to create it entirely.

looking forward

i am yet unsure of what i will do in the future related to all of this.

will i stop striving?

i think the answer is no.

why not?

because i still want to live a meaningful life. on some level, not trying to do things seems like the approach a nihilist would take, and i am most certainly not one.

also because i'm unsure of what else to do. if not striving, then what? what is the opposite of striving? staying in place? i definitely don't want to do that.

my general conclusions are: working is not by default bad. striving is not by default bad. the problem is finding balance.

how does one go about finding balance?

i'm still trying to figure this out. as a first step, i've decided to reach out to some people i know to ask for advice.

but for now, some things i've been thinking about:

• redefining my relationship with rest as something necessary for productivity, not earned by it.

• choosing wisely, and saying no intentionally.

  • avoiding fomo at all costs.

  • "excel at one thing instead of surviving three"

• considering that there are many, many ways of living a meaningful life.

  • meaning can and should be derived from relationships in addition to work

i realize this may be a dissatisfying conclusion to a post on striving; by the end, you were perhaps expecting that i'd have figured out the perfect solution to making the most of life without over-optimizing for productivity. but i'm 17. i'm still learning and growing and making things up as i go. and i never want to be the type of person who puts on a facade and pretends like they have everything figured out, like they have just uncovered a world-changing epiphany, like they have somehow discovered the secrets of life unknown to the rest of the mere mortals on earth and are better than everyone else for it.

speaking candidly, i don't have all of the answers, or even most of them. i don't know how to perfectly balance ambition with contentment, or how to stop feeling like i need to justify my existence through achievements. i don't know at what point i'll feel like i've proven myself enough, or if that point even exists. i don't know how to turn off the voice that constantly implores, "you should be doing more."

what i do know is that acknowledging these patterns feels like a step in the right direction.

maybe the goal isn't to eliminate striving entirely, but to make it more intentional. maybe it's about learning to strive for things that actually matter to me, not just things that make me feel productive. maybe it's about finding ways to feel proud of what i've done instead of only focusing on what's left to do.

or maybe i'm completely wrong about all of this. maybe in a year, i'll read this post and wonder how i could have possibly thought xyz. maybe the "solution" to toxic productivity is something i haven't even considered yet.

but for now, this is where i am: aware of the problem, uncertain about the solution, and trying to figure it out one day at a time.

and i think that's okay, for now.

briefly wanted to plug a lovely poem i came across recently.

i'm incredibly lucky to have parents who have always been unwavering in their support. they've given me complete freedom to pursue whatever sparked my interest and never pressured me into any of the paths i ultimately chose. in fact, throughout high school they often encouraged me to slow down and take on less because they could see how overwhelmed i was becoming.

i know they won't read this post, because i don't share this site with them lol -- but thanks, mom and dad!

be aware- my inbox is always open if you're ever interested in chatting about something i've written!

sophiekim400@gmail.com

there's also an anonymous feedback form linked to the menu on the header, if that's easier <3