After graduating from college, I poured most of my time and energy into triathlons. That was my most important thing. And it stayed that way for most of my 20s. I optimized my days for training across each discipline—swimming, cycling, and running. 

When I went out on my bike, I’d ride with a group of cyclists twice a week. For years they would throw shade my way for not showing up to as many rides as they did. They couldn’t understand why their most important thing wasn’t mine. Their attitude towards me was dismissive—triathletes were just flaky, wannabe cyclists who couldn’t commit to one sport. And if we’re being honest, I harbored a similar sentiment in return. 

There’s a certain level of arrogance most of us hold with our own priorities. We believe, to varying degrees, that our most important thing is often the right thing for everyone. Our priorities take precedence.

But while it’s important to build confidence in your own path, presuming you know best and projecting that same path upon everyone else is hubris. To avoid spiraling past this golden mean, it requires humility. Without this, you become rigid and inflexible. You squander your limited time and energy on things beyond your control. And your relationships are worse for it. 

You are only responsible for yourself, your path, and identifying your most important things. Every second you spend consumed by what you believe other people should want is truly wasted. You are never going to change or help someone by prescribing what they should do with their life. You’re just going to piss them off. And in doing so, you’ll begin to stagnate as your focus drifts from your own life. 

The counterbalance to losing alignment with this golden mean—the place where you build confidence and trust in your own direction while respecting other’s differences—is reminding yourself that not everyone will share the same goal as you. Not everyone is your competition. Different people will have different priorities, and that’s okay as long as it isn’t harmful to society. All you can hope for is that everyone is thoughtful in their own approach. 

This manifests itself in different ways depending on your priorities. Consider your career and lifestyle. You might think someone is crazy to leave (or stay with) your company based on the opportunities available and the company’s trajectory. But that’s based on your vantage point, your level of engagement, and your aspirations. Rather than judging their decision—something beyond your control—all you can do is hope that they were thoughtful and made the best decision for themselves. What’s right for you right now will not be the same for everyone else you work with. And the same holds true for your lifestyle. 

When I was younger, it used to shock me that people would stay and raise their kids in the same town they grew up in. Weren’t they missing the opportunity to discover themselves and wreck their comfort zones by moving somewhere new? But my judgment assumed their priorities and mindset were identical to mine, which is exactly wrong. If someone’s most important thing is deepening their roots in the community they grew up in, all that matters is that they’ve aligned themselves to that. And while I will never have this experience, it’s something I’ve grown to appreciate as equally valuable.

Not everyone needs to see the world the same way as you. You don’t need to convince people you are right. The best you can hope for is to achieve a sense of alignment and authenticity within yourself. And respect when other people are trying to do the same. Besides, the world would be rather uninspiring if everyone held identical values and pursued the same paths. 

Your perspective and the principles you live by are what define you, your art, and your life. Trust that. Find solace in your direction. But don’t presume it’s for everyone. And don’t allow others to throw you off your game. 

The Greeks had a term for this—euthymia, which Seneca defined as “believing in yourself and trusting you are on the right path, and not being in doubt by following the myriad of footpaths of those wandering in every direction.” The key is that this starts and ends with yourself. 

Until I worked this out, I’d waste a soul-crushing amount of time judging and dismissing other people because of my own insecurities. It wasn’t malicious or all-consuming, but it was decidedly unproductive. When I developed the awareness to recognize this, I was able to better hone my own focus. In turn, this unlocked all the time and energy I wasted worrying about other people and allowed me to channel that towards my own growth. And that’s when I was able to define a stronger direction for my own life. There was nowhere to run when I faced uncomfortable conversations with myself. I couldn’t point to other people as a distraction to avoid self-reflection.

In my own life, self-sufficiency (within reason) is my guiding principle. I want to have skin in the game and make my own way, rather than spectating and criticizing from a distance. I believe voluntary hardship and forgoing too much convenience are key to living a fulfilled life. In moments that force me to choose between comfort and growth, I almost always choose growth. No matter how painful that is. But I no longer pretend to believe it’s for everyone. Directions in life are mutually exclusive. And it’s important to respect divergent paths because those differences are what make life interesting. 

Building confidence in your own path is a critical skill if you want to live a meaningful life. It’s the golden mean between self-doubt and hubris. Find your thing. Trust in your path. Figure out what you’re after in your own life and double down on that, knowing your priorities are unique to you. 

When you stop worrying about what everyone else is focused on and play your own game, you can better navigate distractions and channel that energy towards the things that matter most—actually listening to those around you and making meaningful progress towards your own priorities.