37. Taking Care, While Being Ambitious

A personal reflection on being ambitious and learning to take care of myself.

Being ambitious takes its toll. One part of being ambitious is thinking long-term. When I am a long-term thinker, I am always living in the future. My head is two years ahead, while my body is still here today. And when my mind constantly runs ahead, it creates anxiety and restlessness.

Over time, this becomes heavy. I sometimes forget to live in the present. I need to take extra care of myself if I want to remain ambitious in a healthy way. My mental health can take a hit if I do not consciously protect it.

I am learning to accept and deal with who I am. Self-awareness has solved more than I expected. Knowing what I want, understanding that life is not meant to be all comfort and fun, and creating my own narratives to find meaning helps me stay grounded. Meaning works like that. It is not found. It is made. I can make meaning out of nothing. It may look pointless to someone else and still be the most important thing to me.

Ambition forces my brain to live ahead of my timeline. I think in arcs. The next startup, the next career chapter, the next country, the next big trip. It is a fun place to live mentally, but it is not always kind. At some point, I realise that I cannot experience the future with a tired mind and a stressed body. So I have to learn to pull myself back to the present, even for a few hours.

Worst-Case Scenario Thinking

Ambitious people naturally imagine futures, and I am no different. But sometimes that becomes imagining dangerous futures. Things going wrong, loved ones getting hurt, health declining, opportunities slipping away. This does not come from weakness. It comes from a sense of responsibility. But it creates a heavy mental load.

I need grounding rituals to bring myself back. Breathing. Slow walks. Conversations. Moments of stillness. Travel that resets me. It is not about eliminating these thoughts. It is about not letting them control my entire day.

When I Move Fast in a Slow World

One of the biggest unseen costs of ambition is friction. I move fast in environments that move slowly. I have felt this in corporate setups, in teams, and in systems that prefer processes over momentum. The frustration is not because I am impatient. It is because my inner engine runs on velocity.

Learning to navigate this without burning out is a skill. Sometimes I slow down. Sometimes I bypass. Sometimes I find my own lane. But I do not dim my pace. I simply learn where to use it.

The Burden of Wanting All Experiences

Ambition does not just make me dream big. It makes me want everything. Not in a greedy way, but in a human way. I want to see every country, build multiple companies, learn new languages, write, create, travel, make films, grow, and evolve. I do not want a narrow life. I want a wide one. It’s like having multiple browser tabs open in my head. Someday I want to be a content creator, other days I want to be a founder. And on some other days, I want to quit everything and start a farm in the countryside.

But wanting to experience everything becomes a quiet burden. It creates an urgency that never fully turns off. I am always aware of time. I am always aware of what I have not done yet. I feel responsible for making the most of this one short life, and that responsibility can feel heavy.

Taking care of myself means accepting that I can live a wide, full life, but I do not have to live all of it at once. Some chapters can wait. Some dreams can rest. I am not running out of time as fast as I think.

Finding Stillness When My Mind Is Loud

Everyone has a place that resets them. For some, it is meditation. For some, time with friends. For me, it is travel, especially nature and cold places, where the world is quiet enough for my mind to slow down. I also enjoy intense gaming because it forces my brain to stop thinking for a while.

Stillness is not the opposite of ambition. It is the fuel that keeps it going. I need pockets of silence to function well.

Presence is not a mystical state. I find it in a slow coffee, a walk around a new neighbourhood, a quiet afternoon, a supermarket aisle in another country, or a small moment of stillness. These tiny moments keep me sane when my brain is living in 2027.

The Guilt of Rest

Rest should not be complicated, but if I am ambitious, it often is. Even when my body stops, my mind keeps running, reminding me of what I could be building, learning, or improving. I feel guilty for slowing down, as if rest is a form of falling behind. The truth is that ambition without rest becomes self-sabotage. When I force myself to keep going, I eventually lose clarity, creativity, and joy, which are the very things my ambition depends on.

Taking care of myself means treating rest as part of the work, not the opposite of it. I am not wasting time resting. I am making sure I have enough life in me to keep going.

The Importance of Having an Anchor

Ambition makes me drift. I am always thinking ahead, planning the next chapter, imagining the next version of my life. It is exciting, but it also pulls me away from the present. This is why having an anchor matters, someone or something that brings me back to who I am right now. For me, that anchor is my wife. She slows down the noise, adds warmth to the chaos, and makes every experience feel grounded and real. Ambition can make me feel like I am floating between futures, but an anchor reminds me that life is happening here, in the small moments, with the people I love. Without an anchor, I can achieve a lot and still feel oddly untethered.

Never Choose Settling as a Coping Strategy

I would never recommend settling down in the sense of giving up ambition. Life is too short for that. People settle because they think their dreams have slipped away. And while I am happy for anyone who finds peace there, it is not the life I want. Unfulfilled potential is the biggest regret. I have one life. I want to experience everything. I want ambition to stretch me, but I also want to take care of the version of me who is doing the stretching.

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I know I am not the first or the last to feel this way. If you think and feel like this, too, this is for you. Keep going.