For years, I've watched others chase the spotlight, their eyes fixed on the winner's circle, and worth measured in gold medals and standing ovations.
Part of me gets that primal drive for recognition but I've personally chosen a different path, one that winds through a different territory.
How this path was chosen basically boiled down to recognizing that my best growth happens in the spaces between spotlights.
It's not that I lack ambition, far from it.
I think my pursuit of excellence burns as bright as any champion's, it's a natural thing as a human to want to leave our mark on the world.
The difference is in where I choose to direct that fire.
Being an introvert has taught me the value of this approach. Others might view it as hiding or playing small, but you could also see it as stepping back from the front line, which gives you the space to grow in ways that intense competition never could. It's just a matter of pov.
Of course, the fire of intense competition has its own beauty.
And may be needed or can serve as a powerful motivator for those who thrive under pressure.
But it's not for everyone, and more so not for every season of every journey.
A short digression first: be it introvert or extrovert, these are just 'clothes' that we wear to navigate our social world or adapt to our environment. Supposedly extroverts can be introverts in a different environment and vice versa.
Own Kind Of Power
Now, it's well known that introverts prefer to be in the background. But what's less understood is that being in the background has its own kind of power. Like a stage hand during a theater production, you see how everything works, how all the pieces fit together. That's of you're very observant, if course.
The eagerly ambitious jostle for the spotlight, but you're free to observe, to learn, to perfect your craft without the constant pressure of external validation.
I've found this vantage point invaluable in my life's work. Because it just gives me more room to experiment, make mistakes and learn from them without the weight of others' expectations.
That said, I'm trying not make it my default mode of operation, lest it turns into a comfort zone and impedes my own growth insidiously.
When everyone else is rushing to comment on the latest trend, I'm usually hanging back, watching patterns emerge, understanding the deeper currents that others might miss in their hurry to be first.
In many ways, the real competition is far more intimate than any race, and has reshaped my understanding of what true competition means.
Source Material For Future Growth
Now I'm quite certain that the race against oneself yields the most sustainable growth.
It's in the slow moments when I look at yesterday's(or yesteryear's) work and see how it could be better, not because it has to be better per se.
For example, making small improvements that I didn't notice previously, such as finding a more practical solution to a problem or a clearer way to express an idea helps in building a more solid foundation for future growth.
These quite victories don't come with medals or applause. But can be incredibly rewarding through the deep satisfaction of knowing you've pushed your boundaries a little further, climbed a little higher up your own personal mountain.
It's in these shadows that I've found a relatively good source of strength, refining my skills with a patience that the race for first place rarely allows.
What good does it do to be the fastest horse that wins the race, if we don't understand why we're running in the first place?
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