The Illusion of the Chase
How hiking up a cliff showed me why the relentless pursuit of achievement can’t mask our deepest insecurities.
It was October 16th, 2015. I was sitting in business class on a British Airways flight home from a surprisingly extravagant business trip in the United Kingdom.
As the flight attendant handed me a cloth napkin and rich, amber-hued single malt, I couldn’t help but feel as though this somehow meant that I’d finally “made it”.
With each sip, the scotch’s warmth spread, a prelude to the intoxicating glow of my newly minted status as a Very Important Person. With a burst of liquid confidence I began to playfully imagine what my life could be like as a new member of this elusive club.
I knew how hard I had fought to be in this seat. I had clawed and scraped my way out of the depths of tragedy to be here. Always in pursuit. Always pushing to get to the next level.
So as I settled into the flight, and the world outside my window blurred, images of pride and grandeur began to swirl and dance in my head.
And a single thought echoed in my mind. I did it. I proved them all wrong.
Suddenly though, I was jolted from the my imagination as the man in the seat beside me struck up a conversation. He was a friend of Justin Trudeau, who in 3 days time, was all but certain to become the 23rd Prime Minister of Canada. He was here to attend the victory party and support his friend.
Raising our glasses in a toast, our conversation seemed to flow effortlessly. We shared stories, talked politics, business and life. Occasionally, my mind wandered and I marveled at this improbable situation unfolding 35,000 feet above the Atlantic ocean.
He thinks I belong here. He thinks I’m one of them. I did it.
A few weeks after I returned home though, the shine of my Very Important Person status began to fade.
Dimmed by the mundane routines of life, the weight of responsibilities, and the shifting target of achievement that dangled like a chain around my neck, the feeling that I was finally enough quickly faded into the shadows of emptiness.
I’m a chaser after all.
Always searching for the next thing. Always in pursuit. Forever pushing the boundaries of possibility.
That fiery determination has allowed me to defy expectations but it also, heartbreakingly masks an untold story.
Beneath the surface, the whispers of unspoken fears and hidden insecurities smolder with determined persistence. An unrelenting burden. The unspoken yearning for worthiness slowly, and relentlessly simmers inside.
And with a force of suppressed intensity, there exists a never-ending threat that these buried feelings will ignite into a raging blaze. A catastrophic fire of emotion that can’t be extinguished.
Both a shield and a sanctuary, the chase serves as my refuge where fear, vulnerability, and insecurity are suffocated by forcefully severing the oxygen supply.
There is no room for emotional turmoil in the sanctuary of the chase. In here, there is only the next goal, the next pursuit, the next mountain, the next promotion. Nothing else matters.
Except, it’s just an illusion.
The chase provides a perceived refuge and false sense of safety and control. But it’s never enough. Deep down I know I can’t outrun the truth of who I am. But, still I keep chasing and chasing, never feeling fully satisfied.
Buried deep, is a longing to be seen, heard, and valued for more than my external achievements. But, still I keep chasing and chasing, never quite feeling whole.
Simmering just below the surface, always, is the silent cry to be seen as enough. Just as I am. Imperfect and enough. Flawed and enough. Brave and enough. But, still I keep chasing and chasing, never finding the feeling of safety I crave.
“If you live for people’s acceptance, you will die from their rejection.” — Lecrae Moore
Not long after my Very Important Person experience, I found myself holding onto a chain on the side of a mountain, looking straight down to a canyon floor 1100 feet below.
Chasing. Again. Pursuing. Again. Concealing. Constraining. Again.
This was my shield. My sanctuary. My armor.
In the chase, I don’t have to be afraid. I don’t have to be alone. I don’t have to face the whisper telling me I’m not enough. Here, deep within the chase I’m bold. I’m tough. I’m resilient. I’m a goddamn warrior.
I could hear the familiar voice calling me.
You can do this. Prove them wrong. Show them who you are.
In these moments, everything else melts away. The longing. The anxiety. The whisper telling me I’m not enough.
It’s only about the goal.
So, as I stood at the base of Angel’s Landing, considered one of the most dangerous hikes in the US, a storm of inner conflict was raging deep within.
As I read the sign listing the death count, I knew this wasn’t a great idea, but the chase was calling.
Other hikers passed by, one by one, chatting gleefully with awe and excitement. I wanted to be like them. I wanted to belong on this mountain. I wanted to make it. I wanted the check mark of accomplishment.
Just like sitting in business class drinking scotch, I fought to be here. My entire identity and purpose was wrapped in the idea that chasing and striving was the only way to prove I belonged in the world.
I didn’t know any other way.
This was how I silenced the whisper that told me I was worthless. That I didn’t belong. There was no room for it up here.
So up I went. The chase was calling.
You can do this. Prove them wrong. Show them who you are.
It was both exhilarating and terrifying.
The last stretch is a steep, narrow ridge that at its narrowest is 22 inches wide with straight drop offs to the canyon floor 1500 ft below.
When I got to the ridge, I inched my way up, careful of each step I took.
You can do this. Prove them wrong. Show them who you are.
One foot in front of the other. Slow and steady.
You can do this. Prove them wrong. Show them who you are.
But, at about 1100 feet I stopped. I still don’t know why. I looked straight down to the canyon floor. I looked around and took it all in. It was breathtaking. I stood there, holding onto the chain, almost frozen.
The sheer beauty took my breath away.
The most dangerous section was still ahead and I knew one slip of my hand, and everything I had fought so hard for would be over. One stumble and my name would be added to the death count at the base of the trail.
I waited to hear the familiar call of the chase.
You can do this. Prove them wrong. Show them who you are.
But it was gone. I listened again. Still frozen. Nothing. The silence was deafening.
I wasn’t scared though. Instead a sudden wave of relief washed over me. Somehow, in that moment, with the canyon floor below me, I realized that I didn’t have to do this.
This wasn’t who I wanted to be anymore. I was so tired of chasing. Each milestone I reached only fueled my desire to chase after the next, and the next, and the next. And didn’t want to do it anymore. I was exhausted.
I took one last breath and took everything in and climbed back down. It was time to shed the chains. It was time to shed the armor. It was time to stop chasing.
I’m still conflicted about what happened that day. In many ways it was a pivotal moment in my life, a turning point of sorts. But a small part of me wishes that I kept going.
The chase was my refuge. It kept me safe.
In the years since, I’ve come a long way in understanding myself and the inner battles I face. It’s uncomfortable. It’s exhausting. It’s messy.
I’m still, and always will be a work in progress. I still hear the whisper from time to time.
This is not a story with a fairytale ending.
I didn’t crack some secret code for embracing my worthiness. The call of the chase still echoes in my ears. It still beckons me with its promises to silence the whisper. It still tempts me with adventure. I can still hear the clinking of glasses.
But I know now it was just a trap.
When striving and ambition become quests for approval and external validation, when they prevent us from facing our fears and anxieties, we are locking ourselves in a cage.
We will always be afraid. We will always struggle with self-doubt. We will always face uncertainty. This is the nature of living.
We are as unique as our individual journeys on this planet and meaningful growth comes from understanding ourselves.
If we can’t fully accept ourselves for who we are in our entirety, flaws and all, our achievements will always leave us empty, forever chasing the next next hit of validation.
We are all a work in progress and that’s perfectly ok.
We have everything we need within us.
We are enough just as we are.
