Hm. I think Proust put it well:
Desire makes everything blossom and flourish. Possession makes everything wither and fade.
I’m a lucky son of a gun. Managed to slap the eject button on the treadmill early enough in life that I found myself in my early 30s with all the time in the world, and enough cash that it certainly felt like it.
I went and lived so many dreams. Did a whole bunch of things I had already, in my decade long hermitage of empire building, decided would likely never happen.
It’s a decade later. There isn’t an experience or a thing, short of holidaying on the moon, that I haven’t fulfilled.
It’s terrible. It turns out that wanting something, striving for it, was an awful lot more fun than having it. Great; I’ve caught the mailman - now what?
I’ve ended up retreating, wanting less and less - I now live in a cabin in the woods, not because it’s what I want, per se, but because it’s satisfying in ways that my “dreams” aren't.
It’s odd. I do find myself wondering if this is something internal to us, or if it’s acculturated - that is, are we taught to be tantalus, to dangle a reward just beyond our own grasp so that we might justify striving - or are we born with it, the hunter anticipating fresh meat tonight?
Me, I’ve learned to instead derive satisfaction from the absolutely mundane, because the extraordinary wasn’t really any better.
Anyway. These are hardly new problems. Epicurus mused on what dreams were worth having - which grew a person, which diminished them. Aristotle would say happiness is not a state of attainment or possession but one of activity, of working towards a goal. Diogenes would say “mate, all you need in life is a barrel”, and he’d be right.
I suppose my takeaway from all of it can be summed up as “Do not let imagined futures supersede contact with the present.”
Your story reminded me of a quote I found many years ago.
It is only possible to succeed at second-rate pursuits -- like becoming a millionaire or a prime minister, winning a war, seducing beautiful women, flying through the stratosphere, or landing on the moon. First-rate pursuits -- involving, as they must, trying to understand what life is about and trying to convey that understanding -- inevitably result in a sense of failure. A Napoleon, a Churchill, or a Roosevelt can feel himself to be successful, but never a Socrates, a Pascal, or a Blake. Understanding is forever unattainable. Therein lies the inevitability of failure in embarking upon its quest, which is none the less the only one worthy of serious attention. --Malcom Muggeridge
I had a mild version of that, and it allowed to focus on the parts of my work that I love without constantly worrying about productivity or monetisation. I could get more involved in the community and do fun things just for the sake of it.
Travel got old quickly. Consumable experiences in general did too. Making art, coding, and working with others did not.
> Great; I’ve caught the mailman - now what?
Let him go so you can chase again. Give all the money away; or burn it if you’d rather. If you don’t want to do that because having unlimited cash does satisfy you, then make that a deliberate choice each day so you can remember why you like the life you’ve chosen.
Sound like it’s time for yoga :) https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=txNkzlJ0tc4
Hmm, interesting perspective. So there is actually something deeper (on top of other already deep stuff) in having, and more importantly raising kids.
Since they take away so much freedom (if they don't one ain't doing parenting right, thats for sure... or simply doesn't have to work at all), its the little bits of passion that are hard won that I appreciate so much. They very effectively throttle any non-kid activity, 24/7. That weekly climbing evening with a buddy is a highlight of any week it happens. That rare hike or skitour that I manage to pull off during weekend becomes a very fond memory. Those 2 weeks spent solo backpacking in Indonesia or recently Dominican republic is something etched deep in my soul.
Before kids, I did all this every weekend, remote trips 4x a year. I was in heaven, but it became the new, even if ultra cool, norm. Now with kids, and after pretty bad paragliding accident that left me on wheelchair for a bit, anything I can still do, I want to dance with joy. I know intimately how it feels losing all that, maybe forever.
One thing that can break this circle IMHO - passions. Climbing is one for me, nature/mountains are generally another. I can keep doing climbing all the time, novelty doesn't wear off. Maybe it can again become a new norm, but what a norm it would be. But maybe that's just idea of a dad with 2 small kids and way more dreams than life can still deliver. Maybe that slow dripping makes it actually better, I'll never know.