But Striving for Satisfaction
Back in high school, after my first break-up, I despaired I’d never find another boyfriend—a dramatic reaction, perhaps, but not atypical for a heartbroken teen. Stop looking for one! My friends told me. Uh, not helpful. But of course, they weren’t wrong. By the end of university—and the end of a few failed relationships—I’d given up. Enough with this dating crap! In fact, I ended up confiding in a new friend about how much I did not want a boyfriend. He was so kind as he listened to me rant.
He’s now my husband.
So yes, I believe in the concept of not chasing happiness. It’s the same for the concept of success, too, particularly as a writer. We can’t control our conventional “success” (bestseller status, award winner); instead, we need to reframe success as a feeling. Something that just happens when we’re not striving for it, when we’re not paying attention to it. It’s about focusing on what we can do—write the best book we can—and letting the chips fall where they may. That’s not to say we sit on our laurels; we need to put in the work—and that’s what we need to enjoy.
It’s not easy—just like my (non) search for my soulmate wasn’t an instantaneous switch in my brain—but if we’re going to be striving for something anyway, why not strive for satisfaction in the writing itself?