Everyone sets goals for themselves and falls short of at least some of them, myself included. As part of my recent goal to write more, I figured I should write a Commentary article to start the year. However, despite my initial excitement, my piece quickly spiralled into something unusably short, dense, and convoluted by the Sunday deadline. The project I had pursued with passion had become a burden I did not want to complete. However, through writing my article for the week, I better understand what causes motivation to run out and how to combat losing motivation.
The first reason I noticed the task becoming more difficult was that my initial infatuation was waning and yet, I still felt obligated to complete the task I started. Ironically, the topic of my article was about finding enjoyment from things that are obviously unenjoyable through the ideas of Camus’s existentialist work, “The Myth of Sisyphus.” Among the ideas presented in the book, I was really struck by his answer to why life was worth living: despite the absurdity of reality, we can find meaning of our own making. The research and brainstorming process excited me, yet I felt stressed as I struggled to reach the word count. I have experienced a similar pattern in my other goals, outside of writing Commentary articles, whether it’s getting better at drawing, cooking, or fitness. All new goals were enticing at the start, providing new objects to anchor my attention. However, the infatuation expired quickly, often before I made any significant progress in achieving those goals.
Afterwards, when I had found new ideas I felt were worthwhile, I quickly realized the piece had become far too dense for the guidelines I had been given. The work had been for nothing, and I frankly didn’t see a way to save the piece. Like Sisyphus and the boulder, it felt like no amount of effort I put in would change the result. This is the second part of why tasks can become unenjoyable — they begin to feel pointless. An example is going to a club whose premises you find interesting then slowly realizing that you will likely be unable to climb its ranks. Morally, many would consider this shallow. However, that is realistically insufficient as most tasks are ultimately a means to an end, or at the very least must justify their opportunity cost.
Finally, on Sunday night, I was forced to confront my Commentary article that I had long put off. I considered hunkering down for a couple of hours and rethinking my ideas. But the task ultimately seemed unworthy of my nearly depleted energy. This is the third and final reason I will present: tasks are hard and the world will not bend to accommodate you. Therefore, you will be forced to make sacrifices. On a Friday night after a stressful week, you can choose to spend time skating or dancing with friends or labor through a time-consuming optional task. Many will find themselves left with a burden and devoid of the motivation and energy to complete it.
This begs the question, how do you stay motivated? And more complexly, how do you continue to enjoy a task? There is no singular solution. Personally, I have found myself returning to the story of Sisyphus, who endlessly rolls a boulder up a hill. Camus posits that he finds motivation, even happiness amid his torment because he acknowledges the pointless, cruel absurdity of his task and still decides to do it. In doing so, he chooses to attribute victory to an endless task, finding meaning in internal validation. His labor offers no novelty, no reward, not even an end. Despite his lack of physical freedom, he retains agency over two crucial choices, as we all do: whether to embrace the experiences before us and whether to enjoy them.
Yet, despite my praise of Sisyphus’ existentialist ideology, just because you can find happiness by throwing yourself at a repetitive and unrewarding task doesn’t mean you always should. Unlike Sisyphus, you aren’t doomed to eternal punishment. While it’s powerful to overcome difficult tasks by controlling our mindset, we also have the freedom to exit said tasks or change our environment. All this talk of philosophy reminds me of a saying I have most often seen on mugs in suburban Walmarts, “grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, and the courage to change that which I cannot accept.”
