Nay’s Almanac
A record of how I think through my life, business, and mind — in real time.
life

The Hamster Wheel

Almost everything I did had to lead somewhere else—work, exercise, travel, even rest. Recovery made me see the hamster wheel, and remember that some things can simply end in themselves.
Nay Win Myint

by Nay Win Myint

The Hamster Wheel

During recovery, I started noticing something strange about the way I had been living. Almost everything I did seemed to have a purpose beyond itself.

Business was for making more money, so I could grow more business. Exercise was for becoming healthier, so I could think more clearly and work better. Travel was for recovering, so I could return refreshed and make better decisions. Even rest could become something I did so I could perform better afterward.

None of these things were bad. But I began to notice that almost nothing was allowed to simply end in itself. There was always another reason, another outcome, another improvement waiting after it.

It started to look like a hamster wheel.

When Everything Has to Lead Somewhere

For years, I had been trying to become better at almost everything—more effective, healthier, calmer, more capable. And even activities that I genuinely enjoyed could quietly become tools for the next achievement.

The wheel itself could improve too. I could make it more efficient, build better systems around it and become a stronger hamster.

But I was still running toward the next thing.

Illness stopped that wheel for me. For a while, I couldn't work properly, exercise, travel for enjoyment or even look at a screen for a minute. There was nowhere useful for many of my activities to lead.

And slowly I began remembering something simple: some things can end in themselves.

A movie can just be a movie. A walk can just be a walk. I can learn coffee because I enjoy making coffee, play piano because I want to play a song for my wife, or read a book without immediately asking how I am going to use what I learn.

Joy does not always have to become fuel for something else.

Getting Back On

Tomorrow is my birthday, and normal life is beginning to return. Three days ago, even the easy chair that held most of my recovery days was folded away.

And already I can feel the wheel inviting me back.

Meditate for better concentration. Read to improve myself. Rest so I can perform better tomorrow. The connections form very quickly.

I don't think the answer is to abandon ambition, work, meditation or growth. I may eventually do many of the same things I did before.

The difference I am trying to remember is how.

Not everything has to be useful.

Not every moment needs to prepare me for the next one.

Sometimes I can simply read, walk, sit, look at the horizon—or just be.

Shaped from my audio journals with the help of an AI assistant.

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