Image by foxumon
Drivenness draws its energy from the past. It deludes with a sense of striving for the future, reaching forward, being self-motivated, but all the while it pushes from behind: goading with the threat of old, un-acknowledged hurts and fears; spurring with the need to prove some childhood giant of a nay-sayer wrong; whipping up endless activity to drown out the nagging doubts and uncertainties that might spring up in a moment of stillness.
Enthusiasm is multi-directional, enveloping: it brings remembered satisfactions, joy in current effort, pleasant imaginings of future engagement. Enthusiasm moves towards its goal, yet embraces the process of moving as part of that goal.
Drivenness can’t abide failure, because the fear of failure – so often a mask for a deeper fear, such as not being lovable – is one of its foaming coach-horses, one of its dark engines.
Enthusiasm withstands failure, because it recognises the fragments of success that can be found in even the most egregious flop; it embraces and absorbs the useful lessons that failure provides.
Drivenness is never satisfied, because the thing achieved was never a true goal, merely the latest thing-up-ahead to careen wildly towards. In drivenness, there is no arriving, no visiting – only a pause, then a veering in some new direction.
Enthusiasm celebrates achievement, savours it like a slowly-dissolving chunk of chocolate, values its fresh input of energy.
Drivenness is a parasite, a sucker; it hangs like a burr on a bush, waiting to hook itself into the next enthusiasm that gambols past and catch a free ride, working its way into the flesh, unconcerned to be hurting its host.
Enthusiasm feeds itself, grows itself; when shared, like a cupful of sourdough starter, it replenishes its volume in two places at once.
Drivenness is bruise-purple, with an ill green at the edges.
Enthusiasm has a sheen of every-colour white.
Enthusiasm and drivenness: from the outside, they can look the same; from the inside, never.
Drivenness and enthusiasm: their fruits are always flavoured by their origins; bitter, sweet.
Enthusiasm, drivenness: the two can can co-exist, but always awkwardly, anxiously - an angelfish tanked with a piranha, a quiet melody played over a rasping and relentless bassline. Exchanging either one for the other can change a life completely. Many of us make the wrong trade – I know I did – then spend the rest of our lives trying to swap them back.
Strangely, between other commitments last Sunday, we sat down and rather randomly watched an old black and white British film called “I know where I’m going” – http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b0074rq7 – which started as a very corny RADA Scottish accented middle-class acting type tale with what turned out to be a really very interesting storyline, which engaged us both completely, so we stuck it out to the end. The memorable line for me was when headstrong middle-class heroine, aspiring to marry for money, stranded on the Isle of Mull by bad weather, realised she was beginning to fall in love with the cashless Laird, but referred to the people of the island as “poor”, to which the Laird retorted softly: “oh, they’re not poor, they just don’t have money”. I love this line
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My personal observation of driven people is that they either make lots of money or lose their way, or both! Outwardly, their rewards are material, a sort of four-wheel-driveness. But I somehow don’t see you, Kona, as being driven by material things. Apart from feeding yourselves and paying the mortgage, what enlivens you, doesn’t cost too much (does it?). Whatever non-material things do drive us, I think it is important for a while in life, to allow oneself to be driven, at least whilst we are young and resilient, provided it has the purpose of achieving a goal, preferably a goal that establishes some security. But it’s a fine balance between this and, well, as you said in today’s post : “Opportunity, knocked out”.
A bit simplistic perhaps? I prefer my ‘drivenness’ to have a neutral feeling tone. I am sadly apt to be intimidated by ‘driven’ people. But I see no sense in beating up either myself or them about this. ‘Competitive’ is another interesting word. If not neutral, is it positive or negative? It’s probably true to say that I hate society for being essentially so competitive. Yet those who can be competitive in a competitive society truly deserve to succeed. So it’s really just my hang-up.
I can’t imagine anyone being too hung up about enthusiasm though. It’s a lovely quality. That Elusive Clarity is brimming with it.
You’re right, John, I regularly like to bathe in the light cast by enthusiastic people and there are some driven people who deserve much merit; particularly if they happen to be philanthropists, charity workers, social reformers and the like and provided blind ambition doesn’t cause them to ‘drive’ over other people in the process.
I suspect I define “drivenness” by fiat as “every possible kind of negative motivation”…
Intellectually, I can concede that it might be possible to have “healthy drivenness” in the same way that you can apparently have “healthy competition”; my own subjective experience of these states always feels rather pathological, however. :-/