Ambition

I used to think of myself as ambitious.  After graduating high school I hit the ground running.  I had goals I wanted to achieve and I immediately set about working towards them.  My ambition was a source of pride, both for me and for my family.  My sisters and I were encouraged to aim high.  Ambition was a value in my family and it was one I readily embraced.

So I worked hard and achieved my goals.  I earned my master's degree in five years and became licensed as an independent practitioner of clinical social work two years later.  I bought a house and settled into a job I enjoyed.  I got married at 28 and was ready to enjoy a comfortable life with my husband.  I was content.

And so I've continued to enjoy the life I've made for myself.  I am actively pursuing two goals (in partnership with my husband): selling our house and buying a bigger one and having a baby within the next one to two years.  Perhaps these aren't as lofty as the goals I once had but I'm okay with that.

I am, for the most part, satisfied with my life.  Unfortunately, my husband is not.  He is firmly convinced that we need to make more money if we're going to live comfortably.  He devotes a significant amount of his free time to buying things, fixing them up, and selling them for a profit.  He has also taught himself photography and occasionally takes jobs photographing weddings, family portraits, private events, etc.

I don't have a problem with my husband's extracurricular endeavors and I only interfere when I notice that we're running out of room to store his current projects.  My husband believes, however, that I should devote as much time as he does to earning extra money.

This has brought me to the following realization: I am not as ambitious as I once beleived.  I have no desire to spend my free time trying to earn extra income.  I enjoy having time to relax, to wake up on the weekends and have no obligations.  To me, the luxury of not having to work all the time is one of the hallmarks of a comfortable life (and I'm living it already)!

As it turns out, ambition is not one of those things that tends to decrease over time.  In their 2012 article, Judge and Kammeyer-Mueller explain that ambition is a trait that remains stable throughout life; it does not disappear once a person has acheived a certain level of success.  From this I conclude the following: if I am not ambitious now then I probably never was. 

Judge and Kammeyer-Mueller define ambition as striving for "worldly success," things like status, rank, and material wealth.  Ambition is not, they are careful to stress, concerned with less tnagible achievements like wellbeing, sense of purpose, or happiness. 

So now I must admit to myself that I am not, nor have I ever been, particularly ambitious.  I strove for a certain level of attainment - a college degree, a career in mental health, a comfortable home, a sufficient income - and I achieved it.  I've never wanted to be "rich" (whatever that means these days).  Yes, I enjoy having a certain level of comfort but I don't need a bunch of expensive toys to be happy. 

Lately this has been a point of contention between my husband and I. In fact, we discussed it again last night.  "You have absolutely NO ambition!" he exclaimed in frustration.  And I guess he's probably right.     

Potential

Potential.  It's the word my teachers in high school always used when talking about me to my parents.  "She has so much potential, if she'd just apply herself," they'd say.  I was, in fact, well aware of my potential.  I saw it as having more long term relevance than as something immediately useful to me in the present.  In my mind, I needed to do just well enough to get into a decent college.  After all, what good was potential in high school?  I wanted to have fun while I had a lot of time and few responsibilities.

I stuck with my plan.  I became a serious student as soon as I started college.  I had a lot of goals for my life and my career.  I received a lot of positive feedback from my professors.  Many of them commented on how well I write.  One professor wanted me to work as a research assistant in his lab.  The reason I came to his attention was because I consistently earned the highest grade in the class on every exam.  As I progressed in my academic career, I was encouraged with increasing frequency to pursue a Ph.D.  By the time I finished my master's degree, I felt sure I was destined to do great things.

That was seven years ago.  Today, I can't help thinking that I haven't lived up to my potential.  For a few years after I finished college, I had the drive and determination to accomplish more.  I embarked upon several endeavors (working towards specialized certifications, returning to school for my Ph.D., etc.).  None of them worked out, for various reasons.  Most recently, I'd hoped to Also, I was not going to be permitted to take any time away from my traditional work responsibilities to devote to the project.  Eventually, the whole thing fell through.

A few weeks ago, I was sitting around the table chatting with a group of my family members.  We started talking about our "dream job" and what a dream job would offer that our current jobs don't.  Everyone had something they wanted from a job.  When it was my turn to share I simply shrugged.  "I don't know," I said.  "I thought you wanted to do research," my mom replied.  "I don't really want to do anything," I stated.  This drew a laugh from everyone at the table.  For me, however, I felt confused.  I hadn't known I was going to say that; I hadn't even known I felt that way. 

After giving it some thought, I determined that my comment had been a fairly accurate reflection of my feelings.  I don't really want to do anything other than what I'm doing in my job now.  Is this because my work leaves me completely fulfilled and I am 100% happy with my job?  Well, no, not exactly.  I guess it's more complicated than that.  It's not really that I don't want to do anything else.  It's more that I have no idea what else to do. 

I started out in life with so many goals and ambitions.  I achieved the major ones -- the master's degree, the clinical social work license, the job doing psychotherapy.  As I see it, the problem is that I haven't been able to accomplish anything beyond that.  It's not that I haven't made any effort.  Sometimes the circumstances just weren't right.  Other times, I lacked the necessary resources.  And then, at some point, I became disillusioned.  Still, I hate to think that I peaked at the age of 25...

I started out in life thinking I was destined for greatness.  Even now I believe I am capable of doing great things -- I have the potential, so to speak.  But what great things?  And how?  Lately, I get stuck on these questions.

What about you?  Do you ever feel like you're not living up to your potential?  How do you know when you are living up to your potential?