A Case for Mediocrity
Photograph by Ksenia Makagonova
Ambition, defined as a strong desire to do or achieve something, is an unsettling if not terrifying state of being for me. What I want to do most of the time is to simply get by. To coast. Fly below whatever radar is attempting to catch me slacking. I have no inclination to change the world, to make it a better place, to serve the future generation.
There is a tiredness that has set into me, maybe even a feeling of dread as I consider the “upward trajectory” that my career is supposed to take as I approach the age of 30. There is something telling me that I need to do more, put my skills in the service of more and more human beings. Reach out to more people, engage more, learn more, be more. Live up to my full potential, be my best self, hustle hard, pursue my happiness, serve my community. Self-actualization is the goal, self-expression the means, self-care the method.
The reason why ambition feels so unsettling to me, is that it is often complimented by an unkind, almost malicious sort of competitiveness. So, when I experience the urge to offer a skill or a part of me to the external world, I notice that this urge arises as a response or a reaction to seeing someone else doing what I wish to do, someone else being good at what I wish to be good at, someone else receiving recognition and admiration for what I wish to be recognized for.
So, if I write something, it is because I just spent five minutes shitting on something that someone else wrote, convincing myself that I can write better than them. If I wish to market or brand myself as a therapist, I wish to do it in a way that is more “genuine” and less self-aggrandizing than how other therapists choose to endorse themselves. If I wish to learn something new, it is so that I can learn something that someone else might not know, it is so that I can monetize my knowledge in service of earning more money, and beating out my fellow therapist competitors.
How petty I sound. Trying to compete with professionals who are trying to help people. Hoping that I can be better than them at helping people. Hoping that these professionals don’t eat into my share of clients. Hoping in fact that they are so shitty at their jobs that their troubled clients eventually turn to me for help.
Ambition thus makes me face the most scared part of myself which lives in a constant fear of scarcity. If so many others are so competent at what they do, does that mean there is less space for my own competence to be recognized and rewarded? And as I become more competent does it mean that I would need to work harder to maintain my place in the hierarchy, does it mean that I would need to constantly improve myself to stay relevant? Does it mean that there will never be a point where I can rest assured that there is enough work and opportunity to sustain my ever-increasing needs and desires?
And so I have begun to shrink away from ambition. My ambition has become so polluted by capitalistic, predatory instincts that it seems wrong to give it any credibility and any space to thrive. Hence, I pull the bar down, and I lower my expectations of myself. And I relegate my needs and desires to the stuff of dreams. Be mediocre, I tell myself. There is great beauty in mediocrity. I am released from the pressure and liability of being great. With great ambition, comes great responsibility, and with great responsibility comes greater narcissism. Who am I to think that I can moderate my ego, when so many others before me have succumbed? Be less significant darling, just be less.
