What motivated you to when you were 20, 30, 40 yrs old – @marty7higgins
When I was 20 I wanted to write the “Great American Novel”. Now, why in hell would a healthy young 20 year old with no experience in life want to sit in front of a computer for 4-5 hours a day for maybe one to two years with little or no hope of actually getting published? In fact, I probably spent five years in front of that computer for five to ten hours a day.
One reason: sex. I though, perhaps misguidedly, that if I was the author of a great novel then despite what I perceived to be my other disadvantages, that girls would want to have sex with me. Lots of girls. Any girl I wanted, in fact.
What was wrong with me? A lots of things. For starters I lacked self-confidence. If I had spent those five years trying to have more confidence in myself, trying to fill the emptiness I thought a finished novel would fill, then not only would I have been a lot happier during that time, I would’ve had a lot more time on my hands (instead of writing four unpublished novels) and I probably would’ve been having sex with many more women.
By 30 I had the same goal. But then, instead of the great American novel, I thought that having a million dollars or more would do the trick. By the way, writing novels does do the trick. You get a lot of confidence (temporarily, until you slip back to old habits), and confidence gets you all the sex you want. Not money but being able to stand up and assert: “I can rule the world if I want to but I just don’t feel like it right now.”
At 40 finally, I have some confidence. So my goals are different. I have a healthy relationship with my wife. She’s beautiful and she loves me. I think.
Now, I want freedom. Freedom from what? I don’t know yet. But I know there’s still some emptiness inside of me. I know that every day I try to fill it in various small ways. I look for a path when I know, intellectually, that a path is needed. One day I’ll find the right path. And I know it will be inside me. But now I’m still looking for that elusive freedom from the forest which on occasion clouds my brain and soul.