09.09.2026
Ambition
You wanted one particular thing. You got it. And within a few days you were already thinking about the next one.
That isn’t a flaw in your character. It’s how the mechanism is built, and it’s worth watching it work before you judge yourself.
I sold a hundred and thirty thousand copies of a cookbook in under two years. That one was done at a printing house. What I remember about it isn’t the joy. I remember that the figure stopped meaning anything very quickly, and that the only thing on my mind was the next book.
The text gives it a name:
The mode of passion is born of unlimited desires and longings, O son of Kuntī, and because of this one is bound to material fruitive activities.
Bhagavad-gītā 14.7. 1972 edition.
Unlimited. That’s the word, and it isn’t decoration. It doesn’t say large desires, it says desires without limit: there is no figure that closes them. That’s why whoever arrives doesn’t rest. Arriving was never part of the deal.
And look at the second half, which almost nobody looks at: one is bound to the activity, not to the failure. What binds you isn’t losing. It’s having to win again.
Here you expect me to tell you to give up ambition. The text says that nowhere.
Work done as a sacrifice for Viṣṇu has to be performed, otherwise work binds one to this material world. Therefore, O son of Kuntī, perform your prescribed duties for His satisfaction, and in that way you will always remain unattached and free from bondage.
Bhagavad-gītā 3.9. 1972 edition.
Has to be performed. It doesn’t say work less, or aim lower, or be content. It says the same work, done for someone else, stops binding you.
My ambition never went away. I still get up at four. What changed, and it took me decades, is who I’m keeping the score for.
Check it yourself, as always: next time you get something, count the days until you want the next thing. That number tells you more about you than the achievement does.