Between Being and Becoming

How do you strike the balance between ambition and gratitude?

Some people believe that by acknowledging what you have already achieved, you must not be ambitious enough. That if you are satisfied now, then you will never truly be driven to achieve great things. Others say the opposite: that too much ambition stops you from enjoying what you have, that you’ll miss the good bits if you’re always reaching for “more.”

Whilst there are elements of truth in both camps, neither foster a healthy mental outlook.

There’s a balance in there somewhere, and I think it looks different for all of us.

The Lonely Work of Becoming

Gratitude, for me, isn’t something I struggle to feel. It lives in the foundational parts of life. In my home, when I look around and think how lucky I am to be here. With friends and family, when I feel completely overwhelmed by love and inspired by the people around me. Those moments aren’t rare anymore. They’re part of daily life. I know how far I’ve come.

And yet, even with all that gratitude, restlessness still shows up.

My restlessness tends to live in the things that sit fully in my own hands. Career. Health. Fitness. Creative projects. The places where nobody else can do the work for you. These are the journeys we walk mostly alone. You decide to try. You decide to keep going. You decide to show up even when it’s uncomfortable.

That kind of responsibility is lonely, even when life itself is full of people. It’s not that we are not supported in these endeavours, it’s that nobody else is going to make it happen for us. The process of becoming is deeply personal.

The Pressure for Perfection

There are always going to be people telling you how you should live your life. And the world today is particularly opinionated when it comes to ambition.

‘Grind Culture’ is more prominent than ever, but at the same time, there is a huge awareness of mental health and ‘Wellness Culture’ that is equally prevalent.

So, whilst one tells you to be working every waking minute and never be satisfied, the other is emphasising the importance of gratitude, humility and self-care. Both are positives when held in moderation, but both are equally toxic when implemented in extremes.

Not only do we have to contend with this conflicting pressure, but we must also do it beautifully and visibly. Life feels like it has to look impressive from the outside. I feel it in those moments where I’m questioning how things may appear rather than how they feel. Curating experiences to fit this polished image, rather than letting myself just exist, exactly as I am.

And yet, we don’t fall in love with perfection, do we? We’re moved by humanity. By the brushstrokes on the painting or fingerprints in the clay, rather than the perfectly airbrushed selfie.

This is why I am so enamoured by film and theatre. You tell someone that you want life to feel like a movie and they call you unrealistic or naive. But it’s not about the ‘happy ending’. It’s about the stories that care about the messy bits. The flawed characters. The chance encounters. The tender moments that don’t advance any goal but mean everything. These are so real, we just don’t acknowledge them enough. They remind us that the richest parts of life aren’t the most polished, they’re the most human.

The Impressiveness Trap

These days, I see how chasing obvious success markers, career, money, aesthetics, can pull me away from the spaces where life really happens. There’s an assumption that being impressive makes you interesting. I am incredibly guilty of this.

I’ve come to realise that there is an unexpected side effect to always striving to improve yourself. I find myself drifting into the belief that I cannot enjoy life, new connection, new adventure, all of the things that I crave, until I have reached this ‘evolved’ and ‘true’ version of myself.

I fear that this intrinsic belief has sheltered me from more opportunities than I like to admit.

And yet, I also know this: investing in myself has made me feel more confident, energised and alive. It attracts the things that fit me better. The danger is not in ambition or self-growth, but in the quiet belief that I must finish becoming before I’m allowed to live.

You see, we spend so much time, head down, driving towards some future version of ourselves, that we forget to look around and allow life to surprise us.

A lot of those “movie moments” we dream of don’t happen when we’re trying to look accomplished. They happen when we’re simply available to the world.

Ambition and the Pressure Voice

I’ve realised that ambition itself isn’t the problem that I once thought it was. Ambition actually makes me feel alive. I do my best work when I’m chasing something big and meaningful.

What drags me down is the pressure that runs alongside it. The voice that tells me to move faster, to compare constantly, to make every minute “count.” That voice is entrenched in fear, rather than purpose or desire. Fear of falling behind. Fear of not becoming enough.

Though influenced by our surroundings, it’s almost always fabricated by our own minds. We take the things that we see and make broad assumptions that define our inner narratives. I see this in myself, reaching for my phone when I am lost, looking to the endless scrolling feed for direction or inspiration. I’m also often the first to forget that the social media algorithm we assume is universal is actually carefully curated for each individual, pushing all the right buttons to make us feel insufficient.

But the algorithm is only mimicking something deeply human. We have a tendency to seek out what we are missing and look for this in everything. The lonely person sees only loving couples or families laughing together in the street. The person who’s living paycheck to paycheck, sees only those adorned in designer clothing. The person who’s working themselves to the bone in a 9-5 office job, sees only people travelling the world and having great adventures.

It’s easy to focus on our misfortune, and whilst there is injustice in the world that needs to be addressed, your own mental health depends solely on your ability to reframe this behaviour.

I have to remind myself that I can honour the things that I lack without becoming blind to what I already have.

Wanting to Pause Time

I’ll admit: this back and forth is exhausting. Trying to settle the pendulum swinging between achievement and contentment.

Sometimes I catch myself wishing time would just stop. For all of my responsibilities to disappear for a while and to just take a breath. I used to think that this was because I wanted to escape my life. To switch it all off and do absolutely nothing. Now I just want the time to actually experience the world.

For me, the pause looks like deep rest, but not in a lie on the sofa all day watching TV kind of way. It looks like unscheduled café hours to write. Long self-care evenings at home. Engaging conversations with no cut off time. Slow runs where I can wander without a route or a goal. Moments with no agenda.

I think that when we want time to stop, we’re really wanting more of whatever we’re missing. Rest. Play. Creativity. Healing. Adventure. Connection. It’s different for every one of us.

And whilst time cannot be stopped, we can do our best to prioritise these pauses like any other essential activity. We’re very good at planning responsibilities, but much worse at planning in the things that nurture us.

Between Being and Becoming

I don’t regret the years I have spent chasing “enough.” I had to live that story to learn this one. There’s no resentment in the path that brought me here.

As my need to prove myself softens, my motivations are now guided by true desire and passion, and my goals become as enjoyable in the journey as they are in the achievement.

A mental weight is lifted that frees up energy stores that I never knew existed. Energy that can go into relationships, experiences, curiosity, creativity. Actually living.

I do not have the perfect balance. But I am oscillating ever closer to a point of harmony that feels right for me. And I accept, and even love the fact that this point will shift throughout my life. Some seasons will be dominated by growth and ambition. Others will be wrapped in connection, adventure, gratitude and presence. But neither one ever lives alone.

This is the messy middle.

Between building a life, and actually living it.

Between being and becoming.