Why We Reach Material Goals Faster, but Thrive Deeply in Our Ego-Free Era

Now that I am officially middle-aged, I have witnessed profound changes in the second half of my life. In my 20s, I was always on the move, surrounded by a bustling crowd and focused on external appearances. Today, I prefer moving slowly and intentionally, choosing my company wisely. Instead of worrying about how others perceive me, I now turn inward, finding validation within rather than from the outside world.

One of the most striking changes is how I achieve my goals. In my youth, my wishlist was filled with tangible desires: a great body, a fast car, a well-paid job. These goals were clearly defined and felt attainable because so many had followed similar paths before me. I simply had to mimic the steps of those who came before.

As time went on, my aspirations became more abstract. Concepts like freedom, success, and happiness are common, yet each of us defines them in our own unique way. For one person, freedom might mean the ability to travel whenever the mood strikes, while for another, it means having the time to organize everyday life on one’s own terms. Similarly, success can be both an internal feeling of fulfillment or an external sign of achievement, like a flourishing career or a loving family.

Happiness, too, is deeply personal. Some thrive in community, surrounded by people, while others find absolute fulfilment in solitary pursuits – whether that’s conquering Mount Everest or living a minimalist life true to their values. Happiness isn’t something handed to us; it’s something we create through our life experiences. Perhaps that’s one of life’s greatest challenges – not just overcoming difficulties, but discovering and nurturing our own unique bliss.

So, why do people achieve material goals faster? It’s simply the way life is structured. Our hierarchy of needs targets the physical realm first, pushing us to obtain the tangible things we think we desire. Yet, if these aspirations are largely influenced by external messages, such as advertisements, they may not truly originate from our inner selves. Achieving these general goals rarely brings long-term satisfaction.

Building a life based on inner values and personal wishes, however, takes longer. These goals are not prepackaged for us; they are abstract and often remain undefined until we embark on our own inner journey of discovery. Unlike the clear, copy-paste paths of youth, this process is about creating something uniquely your own – guided by personal values, preferences, and the courage to forge a path that is distinctly yours.

In my ego-free era, I no longer focus on external markers of success. My attention is solely on how my life, circumstances, and relationships make me feel. When I set a goal, I start by cultivating it internally. I feel it, imagine it, and even sit with its absence until I gradually build it from within. For me, nothing in the external world is fully realized until it’s first made real on the inside.

This inner work is like crafting bread: you need a recipe, the right ingredients, an understanding of the process, and the patience to let the dough rise in the perfect environment. In the second half of life, we become our own ingredients, trusting both the process and our inner guidance. The results can be inspirational – not because they follow a formula, but because each outcome is as unique as the person who created it.

The Price of Consumption and Worth of Creation

Why Getting What You Want Makes You Happy for 5 Minutes, but Creating Something Lasts

Consumption is detrimental to us in ways we rarely stop to consider. It numbs us, distracts us, and keeps us from what we truly want to do in life. Having lived in Western Europe most of my life, I never questioned why I always felt the need for more – more things, more experiences, more external validation. I was trapped in affluence, yet something was always missing.

I eventually left Western Europe in search of a more minimalistic and meaningful life. I let go of the constant pursuit of consumption, security, and status, and instead embraced a lifestyle aligned with my values and inner compass. My goal was to build a life I didn’t need to escape from, where activity and creation played a central role. Instead of chasing external factors and conforming to group dynamics, I wanted to follow the flow of life and reconnect with nature.

Moving to Poland was eye-opening, though not without resistance and criticism. Here, life felt more natural, more centered around family. I realized that not every external need had to be satisfied. Life happened in the safe space of the family, where not everything on the outside required a response. There was a sense of contentment that didn’t rely on constant consumption.

Years ago, I read a book by Osho in which he explored why the Western world struggles with mental health issues. He pointed out that people in the West often lack real challenges. Our minds are designed to solve problems, to face difficulties and overcome them. When these challenges do not exist on a material level, we create problems just to have something to solve.

In contrast, in many Eastern cultures, people often have little materially but everything to hope for. I especially noticed this while living in Israel, where life is undeniably difficult, yet there is a deep sense of connection and shared experience. I have never met as many creators as I did there – people who not only engage in artistic expression but also create for themselves and for others on a daily basis.

How Creation and Consumption Have Shifted Over the Last 50 Years

The balance between creation and consumption has changed dramatically over the last five decades, driven by technological advancements, economic shifts, and evolving cultural norms.

1970s–1980s: Creation in the Physical World

People engaged more in hands-on activities, building, crafting, and embracing a strong DIY culture. Home cooking, repairing items, and making music or art were integral to everyday life rather than occasional hobbies. Media consumption was limited to television, radio, and books, with fewer choices but deeper engagement.

1990s–2000s: The Rise of Mass Consumerism and Digital Consumption

Globalization made mass-produced goods more accessible, accelerating consumer culture. Cable TV, video games, and later the internet introduced 24/7 entertainment, increasing passive consumption. Creative outlets like photography and music became digitized but were still largely controlled by professionals.

2010s: The Social Media Boom and Passive Creation

Platforms like YouTube, Instagram, and TikTok gave individuals the ability to create, but much of this “creation” became tied to algorithms and external validation. Streaming services and social media made consumption hyper-personalized and addictive, shifting focus from deep engagement to endless scrolling. DIY culture resurfaced with platforms like Etsy, but mass consumer culture still dominated.

2020s: AI, Automation, and the Consumption Overload

AI-generated content, automation, and recommendation algorithms have made passive consumption effortless and overwhelming. Many people consume far more than they create, with shorter attention spans and a focus on instant gratification. The digital economy has made true creativity harder, as most content is optimized for virality rather than depth.

Where Are We Headed?

The challenge now is finding balance – leveraging technology for meaningful creation rather than being trapped in passive consumption cycles. There is a growing movement of people rejecting overconsumption in favor of craftsmanship, long-form content, and intentional living.

Scientific studies have shown that people who engage in physical work and express their creativity experience greater happiness than those who primarily consume. It is concerning that we now need to take deliberate breaks from the online world to reconnect with reality. The fact that we must escape into the real world rather than naturally live in it is alarming.

In my own life, my job requires a lot of analytical thinking and structure, which brings me into my masculine energy. To balance this, I turn to dance, writing, sewing, and cooking – practical activities that not only make me feel good but also result in tangible, meaningful outcomes.

Each expression of life is a creation. The more we embrace it, the less we need to consume.

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