Proofs

Post-MBA time looked like this expanse of freedom to explore all kinds of opportunities and big projects when I was in the thick of finishing my class. No more of this obligation to fulfill some arbitrary class requirement. My time would be my own and I could do really important things that really meant something to me. Well, those big things require energy. I'm struggling to find the energy to do much. The drive to make something happen is the key to any personal project. Now that I have the time to try some different projects, I'm finding that I just don't have the interest.

I'm just worn out from the rigors of finishing my class, a busy couple of months at work, the drain of life in general, and finding my workout groove after spending the last month trying to heal up from nagging running injuries. I just need to give myself some time to recover, let my energy and drive built up slowly. Don't rush anything, don't force it. Just let my life unfold casually. What's the rush? What do I have to prove?

But that's the real fear. What happens to my drive when I don't have anything to prove? I've documented some of my struggles with figuring out who I am and what I'm about. Getting closer to those answers makes me more comfortable with who I am, less driven to show that amorphous "everybody" that I'm somehow superior. Energy was always there when I needed it for LSAT prep. The hardest part of my garage workouts was just getting in the garage in the first place. Once I was out there, I was able to get it done. I could push myself, I was willing to hurt a little to get stronger. With more strength would come better times on the rowing machine. I would be proving something.

So I was really trying to prove something to myself. I just wanted to feel like I was worth something. Achievement and accomplishment was how I fought against the emotional void of my family. Achievement and accomplishment gave me attention and recognition from others, the kind of attention that I didn't get at home. Maybe I was trying to earn the praises of my absent father. Or maybe I was just lost and alone. It only matters now as I struggle to work up the energy to do the things that I've always done.

So my energy crisis may be a consequence of burnout and fatigue. It may also be a consequence of an absence of meaning. If I manage to separate myself from the patterns of my youth, I may be undermining the effectiveness of the coping mechanisms I used to give my life some emotional substance. The experience of real emotions saps the power of those old routines. Those old routines were very, very central to my identity. I used accomplishments as a proxy for a self. I did things to prove my value to others because I didn't really know who I was or what I was about.

The scary thing is to think that things I've always thought were very much me are really just ways for me to feel better about myself. I did things not because they were particularly pleasant. I did things I was good at. I'm pretty good at school, I manage to do pretty well at my job. Most of my blog posts are about school and my job. Reading and working out are pretty regular features. As I think about it, many of the things I thought about doing were things that I've always done. They're stand by activities, stuff that is ready to to at a moments notice.

Where is the exploration? What have I've done that's new or different? If my energy levels continue to flag, I'll have to assume that it hasn't been fatigue or burnout at the core of my energy crisis. It's my motivation. If I don't have anything to prove to others, that means that I need to do what is meaningful to me. I'm sure what I've always done is meaningful to me, but I may need to make an adjustment or two to figure out how to make things matter to me rather than focusing on how I can prove my value to everybody else.