Thursday, November 4, 2010

The Omission of Ambition

I just got done watching an episode of one of my favorite tv shows, How I Met Your Mother. An episode about one of the characters potentially taking a job in another city, away from her friends, and away from a guy she was dating and really starting to hit it off with. And the question entered my mind: Are we so stupid that a job will infringe on our friends, and even our relationships? You may be questioning my use of the word, Stupid. Yeah, it is. Here's why:

We have been fed from birth the lie that we are supposed to make all kinds of money. As much as we can. Why? Because that is what it means to be successful and the aforementioned "success" is what will make us happy. Wrong. There's an old saying that goes, "You become who your friends are". Why could that be true if "success" is what defines you? In the end of that argument, if all you care about is your career, you will be a lonely person. If our friends define who we are, then connection is the most important thing about us. Not what we do for a living, but who we associate with, and sometimes who we don't associate with.

You know what, the real problem with ambition is that we put our careers ahead of all else, so we stop trying. We stop trying in our relationships, we stop trying in our friendships. And yes, we're all a little guilty of this, I myself have scoffed at those very words I was typing. The turnaround for me was being dumped by someone who wanted a career first. I'm not sorry for saying this, but there is not a career that could make me want to give up on any relationship that I deem important. Not one. Because when we make our community unimportant, we grow apart. We become alone. And we retreat into ourselves. And it's that dangerous combination that leads to bad decisions.

I would rather have people who build me up. People who I can bounce ideas off of. People who can show me love, and I can show love in return. Let's take care of our relationships, we never know how long they may last.