I’ve always been an overachiever. I’m not saying that in a bragging kind of way – overachieving is hardly a worthwhile goal. But it’s not a type of pathology either, as some would have us think. 

I’m not even sure what we mean by overachieving. The ‘over’ part implies attaining something beyond the norm. But we have highly individualised aspirations, perspectives, goals, capacities and energy levels. What’s typical for you is likely atypical for me (and vice versa). I have a friend who craves a day off if she stays an hour behind at the office a few times a fortnight, whereas ten-to-twelve-hour work days have been business as usual for me as long as I can remember.

Anyone who accomplishes a lot, especially in a way that leads to a modicum of success, is often deemed (pejoratively) to be an overachiever. The presumption is that they’re outcome-oriented attention seekers wanting recognition or validation or vacuous types chasing celebrity. But for some of us ‘overachievers,’ output is the natural byproduct of intensive effort, not the motivation. My ‘overachieving’, for example, is derived from an insatiable curiosity about myself, others and the world. Add to the mix a can-do attitude, a hunger for challenges and a desire for growth. The price: When you’re constantly achieving, it’s easy to forget who you are beyond your heightened state of mental and physical activity. 

Perhaps it was my mood or existential fatigue (a chronic condition, I might add), but I felt compelled to reevaluate my modus operandi when someone recently commented on all that I get done in a given day. (It’s worth noting that I couldn’t tell whether they intended the remark as a dig or a compliment.) I blame my slump / overthinking / sensitivity (choose your description) on my two-month European sojourn. I was convinced it would yield clarity and a refined focus for the next decade or two. I even sat in the throne on Lokrum (Game of Thrones fans will appreciate) summoning my power. 😅 My secret hope was that this as-yet-unknown direction would motivate me to hunker down even further in my twilight years – so much to see/do/learn, so little time – but it seems to have done the opposite. It made me realise my level of activity, regardless of what fuels it, is unsustainable without first finding out who I am outside of my writing/work self. (I toyed with the idea of ‘who I was’ for the preceding sentence, but I’m convinced I’m not the same person I was ten years ago … let alone sixty.) 

I suspect my overactive drive, knitted into the fabric of my self-identity, is tied up with an arguably futile desire to stave off aging. Regardless, I’ve done something radical and seemingly counterintuitive: I’ve streamlined my commitments and lowered my unduly high expectations while carving out chunks of time for myself. Not in a sit-on-the-sofa-and-eat-bonbons kind of way, but consistent, quality time to not achieve. To breathe. To relax. To walk. To rest. To appreciate. To marvel. To explore. To read. You get the picture. The problem is that when you’re an overachiever, slowing down feels like you’re losing a part of yourself, and that can be terrifying, especially when intertwined with the agony and ecstasy of advancing years. It’s much easier to keep running at breakneck speed and not think about it.

Like most worthy pursuits, this transition didn’t happen overnight. It took months to set in motion, complicated by a few mysterious ailments that made the work–personal life margins even messier than usual. That’s okay. The latest neuroplasticity studies assure me that I can rewire my brain to value rest, reflection, and mental well-being. Now, I’m programming downtime as a necessity, not a luxury, freeing up time to create, enjoy and pursue opportunities for growth and personal development for their own sake. But I can’t help but wonder: Is this just a means to an end in disguise, the ‘end’ being all the follow-on benefits (a boost in creativity and innovation, deeper understanding, greater resilience and growth and decreased anxiety) and any desired outcomes they produce?

The jury’s still out. Meanwhile, the real challenge, for me at least, is not to view this more harmonious state in achievement terms: a daily box to tick, a commitment to honour, a goal to attain. 

Old habits die hard.