One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star.
The great ones always seem to have something more to prove.
If we tracked the career arcs of the most-admired athletes, entertainers and businessmen, we would often find them hunting for new ventures after high achievement in their chosen field or simply chasing down new dimensions to work they produced before.
The public sees the riches and fame and asks, “Why?”
Maybe they’re greedy.
Maybe it’s just ego.
Maybe it’s something different altogether.
When passion rules our lives — the kind tied to true purpose — there is an innate determination to keep going, like a surfer heading out again and again in the hopes of catching the perfect wave.
It’s not about the compensation.
It’s not even about the competition.
It’s about the connection.
To express our essence — whatever we are created to do — is to ride lightning.
The energy is necessary, because fulfilling our potential is a tiring endeavor.
It requires a single-minded doggedness and unfailing grit.
Those who push forward — who strain for the very edges of what’s possible — have a certain restlessness. Their minds are driven by the relentless pursuit of the horizon. When reaching a destination, they look around and say, “What’s next?” or “What could be done better?”
This “chaos,” as Nietzche calls it, is in actuality a quiet discontent with the idea of leaving something incomplete, of walking away before the tasks of this life are finished.
Seeking that kind of fulfillment naturally leads to upheaval and disarray.
Becoming engaged in the quest for the best of oneself demands inner turmoil.
We ask what’s possible.
We face what holds us back.
We change or rot.
We come to understand the underlying truth of what makes us legend:
No turbulence, no growth.