Good morning, readers. Most people assume aiming at your target gives you your best odds of hitting it. But today we’re breaking down the evidence that suggests we do otherwise — and what to focus on instead.
Let’s get started.
Smart, curious people have smart, curious friends. Share this newsletter.
Fulfillment doesn’t come from milestones
After winning the gold medal, Russian figure skater Anna Shcerbakova did not look happy. She had just reached the pinnacle of her sport, and the world watched her deflate, rather than jump for joy.
“This has been what I’ve been working toward every day. I still can’t comprehend what has happened,” Shcherbakova told reporters in February. “I feel this emptiness inside.”
The silver-medalist, Alexandra Trusova, denounced her own achievement, saying she hated the sport.
Granted, very few people ever face the pressure of an Olympic athlete. But these sentiments are no rare occurrence.
When you attach yourself to some distant milestone, it often comes with the assumption that, once attained, it’ll deliver the happiness and satisfaction you crave.
It’s common among college students facing graduation: “Once I’ve got that degree, my troubles will evaporate!”
And it’s not just young people who, perhaps smartly, anchor themselves to big moments. It’s natural, and often what we learn to do. Maybe it’s a birthday or promotion or publishing a book.
If only I achieved X, then I will finally be happy.
When you reach your big moment, even after years of anticipation, it’s possible to find yourself more depressed than ever. You may even be less happy than before that feather in your cap.
PhD students sometimes report severe grief once they attain the coveted “Dr.” title after years of arduous study.
Reaching a goal commonly means the end of some journey, which can bring about an identity crisis, and the disappearance of path and purpose.
One writer calls it the “post-achievement hangover” — the sad uneasiness that hits you once you realize your milestone is now in the past. Once we conclude that the view at the top of a mountain doesn’t match our expectations, it’s easy to spiral downward.
How to avoid the emptiness
That said, specific goals provide metrics to measure ourselves against. We still need those.
But it’s important to recognize it won’t be a lasting source of satisfaction. Breaking your back over a milestone sets you up for unhappiness.
Genuine fulfillment, as I’ve written before, comes from being able to witness your own progress — not meeting a goal.
Our focus shouldn’t be on the mountaintop. You could be happier, instead, if you prioritized taking a small step forward, every day.
The more frequently you notice your own forward motion, no matter how small, the more likely it is that you’ll stay motivated to continue working toward something.
Consider a marathon: When you decide to run a marathon, the point is to improve yourself by changing your day-to-day habits for the better, not to drag yourself kicking and screaming through a dreadful event.
The reward isn’t the medal you get from the race, it’s waking up each day a little better than the day before.
Similarly, getting a degree isn’t really about the degree. It’s about accumulating skills and knowledge along the way that qualify you for a better opportunity than before. The value of the degree lies in its ability to facilitate your progress.
Meanwhile, research has shown that prioritizing a concrete goal presents too obvious an endpoint — perhaps that’s the “emptiness” the Olympic figure skater described.
Improvement is a big part of what makes happy people tick. Studies have shown those who report the highest level of well-being are people who prioritize progress, and focus less on accomplishment.
Even if progress leads to an arbitrary milestone (like a six-figure salary), you can reap satisfaction in knowing that where you are now is clearly further along than where you were previously.
All this isn’t to say you should abandon all goals. But if you frame them less as end-all-be-all’s, you won’t feel throttled every time you accomplish something.
— Phil
Tip Jar Recs
- Notes from a war: One of the last American journalists in Moscow recounts how she and her dog escaped Russia before Putin’s new Iron Curtain fell. (Politico)
- Something different: An imposter nurse who treated hundreds of patients despite having zero credentials. Why didn’t anyone stop her? (Maclean’s)
- Something encouraging: The miraculous, winding comeback story of big bookseller Barnes & Noble. (New York Times)
Sign up for Tip Jar if you haven’t already, and don’t forget to share this with a friend.
You can read this newsletter online here. You can read last week’s edition here.
Feedback? Reply to this email, or message me on Twitter or Instagram.
Photo by Matthew Stockman/Getty Images
Be First to Comment