Behind the question “What is the purpose of all this?” lies another I find even harder to voice: How much of the life I’m living is truly mine?
How many decisions do we make because we sincerely want something, and how many because we once chose a certain path and now feel obligated to stay on it? It’s very easy for a person to become a prisoner of their own decisions. You started a company, so you feel you have to grow it. You began a project, so you have to finish it. You’ve reached a certain level, so it’s assumed you have to go even further.
Over time, other people’s expectations pile on. Others get used to seeing you in a certain way, and you get used to seeing yourself through their eyes. So you keep living by rules you set years ago, without asking whether they still fit.
We rarely admit that the person who once made those decisions and the person who now lives with their consequences are no longer the same. Circumstances, experiences, and values have changed—as has our definition of success. Some things that seemed like proof of my success ten years ago aren’t nearly as important to me today. Others that I hardly gave any thought to back then now hold a much more important place in my life.
Time changes our criteria. The problem arises when a person changes but continues to live by the rules of their old self.
That’s why, in recent days, I haven’t been thinking only about what else I want to do. I’ve also been thinking about what I no longer need to do, prove, or carry with me.
Perhaps the ability to leave something behind is one of the most serious signs of maturity.
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