Category: people

I read about this former pro skateboarder, considered the best in the world by many. Born in the 60s he can no longer perform the tricks of his youth, his body just won’t allow it. He also gets funny looks when he’s on his skateboard, so he only goes out at night. Street cleaners and the homeless are the only ones that see him. An old man just skating the streets performing the occasional trick.

It’s sad when your passion in life is tied to your body’s abilities. As you get older your body just can’t perform the same movements that it could in its youth. And if you suffer an injury it takes a lot longer to heal.

Take Speedway riders for example. Due to the nature of the sport and the possibility of serious injury, it is considered a young man’s sport. Retirement age is around 40. Pushing that limit can have consequences. One rider pushed that boundary into his early 50s. He was past his prime and struggled to compete with the younger riders, but his passion for his profession kept him going as long as he could. He wasn’t ready to retire and become a commentator just yet. He felt he had a few more rides left in him.

Some keep their bikes, their skateboards, and ride just for fun. Limiting the risks. Embracing the feeling they get from doing what they love. For as long as they can.

I overheard someone giving advice to another person the other day. They were telling them to settle down and have kids.

Settle down. What a weird expression. As if we are all manic living our lives and that at some point we should give up all the excitement and activity and settle down, and while we are at it have some kids. It’s an old expression used a lot and I get it. At some point in your life you should pause on the career aspirations and focus on building a family, if that’s what you want. I just found it an amusing thing to say. To settle down. To pause the flurry of activity that is your life to date and to live a calmer more family-oriented life.

I suffer from problem empathy.

It’s where you worry and stress about problems that are not your own, but those of friends or family.

When catching up with a friend or family member and they tell you about their woes, something that happened to them recently, maybe they were ripped off, scammed, or threatened, and are obviously upset. You begin to feel angry as if the problem has befallen you and not them. That you were the person that was wronged or threatened and you need to sort it, to make things right.

This is problem empathy.

You get worked up about this thing that has not happened to you, yet somehow feels as if it has. It can be really frustrating. Your loved ones may not even understand, telling you that you are worrying and stressing over nothing.

Ambition burnout. It’s a weird combination of words implying that it is possible to burn-out from ambition. But it is real and something that I’ve personally experienced.

I’ve always been driven by ambition. As a child I wrote a list of things I wanted to achieve by the time I was 18. I completed the list well before my 18th birthday. I wrote another to achieve by the time I was 30. It included things like to live in a nice home, have a nice car, a great job, and to travel around the world. I completed it by age 29.I wrote a few more, which I achieved. Then I hit the aforementioned burn-out. I ran out of things that I wanted to achieve. So I idled. With no more drive or goals I coasted along. I embraced mindfulness, journalling, meditation, and long walks. They kept me sane but barely.

Those of us driven by ambition can feel a real sense of loss when we no longer have ambition to steer us forwards. We merely exist like everyone else. With no measurement of progress, no sense of achievement. Just being.

It can lead to depression, and bad health. Ambition burnout can leave you hollow. A loss of drive, no mojo, no spirit.

So what comes after ambition burnout?

We British love to moan. We assert that right as often as possible. When we are unhappy about something we want the world to know. We seek out friends that we know will listen to our woes. Misery loves company.

We share our misery. Wear it like a badge of honour. When we feel slighted, wronged, cheated in some way. Or when we seem deluged with problems, the world is out to get us. We become angry, frustrated, vexed, needing to vent. To find others of a similar countenance. Not happy with their current predicament. A friend in a dark place. An ear wishing to listen, half-heartedly in return for the same in return.

Misery loves company.