Go for it all.
Think big.
Shoot for the stars.
We’ve all heard some version of these sayings throughout our lives.
Our society embellishes dreamers who become doers. It’s why we bestow fame, notoriety and power on our biggest achievers.
This is the reason we recognize Marissa Mayer, but not the engineers who have helped her innovate at both Google and Yahoo. (Unless one of them spews out sexist comments in a viral memo, that is.) It’s we recognize Derek Jeter, but not Mike Hessman. (Hessman is the all-time home run leader in minor league baseball.)
The message is clear. We must be somebody to be viewed as successful. Anything less means we’re irrelevant.
So, we all strive for fame, fortune and notoriety. We set our sights on titles such as CEO or VIP. We dream of “making it,” simply for the power and prestige that destination provides.
But we fail to consider is what life at the top is actually like.
You see, power is intoxicating. This is why history is filled with examples of both its use and misuse.
It’s quite something to have the ability to control both our own destiny and that of others. But this ability comes with significant side effects.
When we take the reins and ride into the spotlight, we sacrifice our anonymity. Our actions are heavily scrutinized. Our privacy is compromised. And our decisions leave a trail.
Whether we become the President of the United States or a musician with a bigtime recording deal, a basketball star or a chief executive, there is no more hiding from the world after we hit the bigtime. There is no way to turn off the attention our notoriety provides.
For try as we might to get away, there’s always someone there to keep us honest — whether it be a journalist on a beat, a paparazzi photographer or an astute social media user.
That scrutiny can be far-reaching. It can even extend to our families and even impact the way we live our lives.
This is the cost of power, fortune and fame. It’s a cost we often fail to consider until we’ve made it big. And by then it’s too late. The mansion with the pool might be nice, but having to sneak out the back entrance to run to the grocery store sure ain’t.
Is this really what we want? Not a chance.
And it brings us to the crux of our paradox:
We don’t actually want it all. We just want some of it.
Sure, we want the glory and the adulation. But we also crave the anonymity that allows us to reset our batteries and spend cherished time with our loved ones in peace.
This setup is perfect for the middleman role. For the undersecretary. For the vice president.
But those roles are harder and harder to come by these days, and many of the ones that remain are getting replaced by machines.
So, with no ready-made outlet to turn to, what should we do to satiate our ambition yet save our sanity?
We should look before we leap.
We should do our due diligence. We should consider the tradeoffs of the spotlight long before we shoot for it.
And critically, we should ask ourselves the following:
Is pursuing our dreams worth sacrificing life as we know it?
If the answer to this question is yes, we can proceed with eyes wide open. We can round the bend prepared for the cage-rattling hit that awaits on the other end. The world-rocker that will send us into a new reality that there’s no turning back from.
If the answer is no, we can stop chasing a dream that we find undesirable. We can instead strive to make the life we know, love and are comfortable with the best it can possibly be.
Now, neither of these answers are wrong. But only one will be right for us.
All or some? The choice is ours.