The Tyranny of In Order To

In our ordinary operating state, every action is a stepping stone to something else—we do X in order to get Y. We unknowingly divide our lives into the illusion of separate moments, each one a means to the next—we do this so we get that. If we are awake to it, life starts to feel like one big transaction; if we're not, it just feels normal.

The result?  We end up anywhere but here, our attention leaping ahead to the next goal post. We’re chasing carrots on a stick. The tension between future-oriented striving and present-moment awareness arises regularly as I train professionals in mindfulness. These are people for whom striving is a badge of honor - most are proud of the accomplishments their striving has brought them, and not mistakenly so. These are accomplished people, and striving has helped them achieve those accomplishments.

Unsurprisingly, people are mixed with fear, doubt, and confusion when we consider the possibility that these results (and much more) can be achieved outside the hustle and grind they're used to. The tyranny of "in order to" obscures, colors, and shapes any other path to results.

Trapped in “In Order To” Mode

Inside this worldview, everything is a path to somewhere else. Think about it: you meditate to calm down, work to get promoted, and even relax to recharge for more work later.  When was the last time you did something for its own sake? Everything is instrumental, part of a grand (often exhausting) strategy to become better, richer, calmer, and more successful later. Life turns into a series of trades: your present for some imagined future payoff.

Eckhart Tolle notes, “Stress is caused by being ‘here’ but wanting to be ‘there,’ or being in the present but wanting to be in the future.” The tyranny of “in order to” keeps us perpetually leaning forward, rarely grounded now.

This transactional mindset works as far as it does. You, for sure, can get stuff done. You can get things accomplished. But we are blind to the alternatives to the point where when I suggest in my classes to let go of striving, to sit now, to breathe in this moment, the fear that all our drive to accomplish anything will disappear is palpable.

It’s as if the only possible motivation to get out of bed in the morning is in order to get something. This view of life holds that there is no other possible source of action than to get something that isn’t in the present to be in the present, and we must be willing to give up the present to get it.

That is madness.

Always Striving, Never Arriving, and Never OK

Striving isn’t all bad – committed effort can lead to growth. The problem is that when striving becomes our default state, there is a chronic tension of never being enough right now. We hitch our happiness to the next achievement. As mindfulness teacher Jon Kabat-Zinn observes, the very notion of “I need to get somewhere else” plants the idea that you’re not okay as you are. If every meditation session, gym workout, or work project is just a means to a future result, we send ourselves a constant message: “This isn’t it.  I’m not it.  I’ll be happy when…”

We start living in a gap we can never close—the gap between where we are and where we think we should be. But that gap is a mirage; as soon as we arrive at the next stop, a new “there” appears on the horizon. People experience despair, confusion, and often bankruptcy when they see the Sisyphean nature of this worldview.

Modern life, unfortunately, conditions us to do just that (and only that). We push, strive, and hustle, treating the present moment as merely the raw material for a better future. It’s the classic arrival fallacy: we pin our happiness on arriving somewhere in the future, only to find that “somewhere” keeps moving just out of reach. Meanwhile, the richness of life, which only ever unfolds here and now, passes unnoticed.

The Wisdom of Presence (Being vs.  Doing)

So what’s the alternative? Are we supposed to just stop trying, quit planning, and do nothing at all? Not exactly, and here is where hustle culture has a chokehold on our collective perspective.

The only available alternative to striving to the Western mind is complacency, and there is hardly a state of being held with more contempt than complacency.

Do you know what never shows up as a possible alternative? Being present and accepting this moment, as it is. Even as I write it, I can hear my inner voice read those words, and the interpretation is the same as complacency.

But accepting is not the same as acquiescence, and being present is not the same as being complacent.

We’re looking for the shift from controlling life to participating in it, from forcing an outcome to dancing to what comes next, from making something happen ourselves to allowing what the universe wants us to see next, from needing to know the answer (and be right) to being curious and open.

Think about it this way: the intentions you hold dear, the things you want to accomplish, your mission and vision, imagine these as a bird you hold in your hand.

Trying to hold onto the bird in an attempt to make it do what you want won't work; the bird wants to fly. Hold on too tightly, and you'll end up with a dead bird.

But open your hand and off flies the bird. Your intention is now free to head off to its fulfillment. Now your job is to move in its direction. Every step you take toward the bird is a step closer to fulfilling your intention. Every step is something of a victory, now. Every step a new adventure.

When you approach the moment with an open hand instead of a fist, you’re receptive, curious, and engaged. You’re not squeezing the life out of experience by trying to force a particular result. You’re allowing life to unfold, meeting it as it comes. By contrast, a closed-fisted approach tries to grip and steer every second toward a preconceived end. It’s tight, rigid, and anxious – the very opposite of flow.

From Striving to Devotion: A New Access to Performance

Devotion might sound like something reserved for saints or poets, but in this context, it’s deeply practical. Devotion means pouring your heart into something because you genuinely care, not because you’re trying to get something. It’s showing up fully because you’re called to, not because you have to. When you act out of devotion, the energy is entirely different from striving.

Consider the difference: Striving is fueled by a sense of lack – I need to become more, I’m not enough yet. Devotion is fueled by love or passion – I pour myself into this because it matters to me.

Devotion doesn’t mean you drop all goals. It means your relationship to your goals changes. You still set the alarm for 5 am writing sessions or push for that promotion or train for the marathon – but you do it as an act of love, not as a desperate attempt to fill a hole in your self-worth. “Devotion, for me, meant bringing my whole heart and soul into what I do… allowing it to be a sacred offering, rather than a box I needed to check,” writes Peleg Top. The outer actions might look similar (you still show up to work, to practice, to the gym), but the inner tone is different.

Paradoxically, that’s what allows you to give your best and achieve remarkable outcomes. You’re not divided against yourself. You’re not doing one thing while mentally yanking yourself toward another. You’re all-in. Devotion transforms a routine into a ritual, discipline into desire. In a sense, you become an instrument being played by a deeper purpose, rather than a stressed-out project manager trying to control everything.

Committed Action, Without the Struggle

The sweet spot is committed action infused with presence. You still commit – discipline and effort have their place. (As the saying goes, “Trust in God, but lock up your camel.”) However, you hold your commitments with a light, open hand. You give your all to what you do right now, without the neurotic attachment to where it’s all going.

Alan Watts famously said, “This is the real secret of life — to be completely engaged with what you are doing in the here and now.  And instead of calling it work, realize it is play.” What if your work, practice, workouts, and chores became play? Not that they become frivolous or easy – but that you approach them with a spirit of exploration and wholeheartedness. You might still set goals, but you’re not doing the activity solely to reach the goal – you’re doing it because the activity has value in itself.

When you live this way, you haven’t given up on achievement; you’ve just put achievement in its rightful place. Goals become guiding stars rather than whips at your back. You can enjoy the journey and still be moving in a purposeful direction. In fact, by fully embracing the process, you often perform better and create higher quality outcomes. You’re less stressed and more creative. It’s the classic Zen paradox: you play more masterfully by letting go of the attachment to winning.

Letting go of the “in order to" doesn’t mean you have no intentions or goals; it means they don’t rule you. You discover that when you stop trying to force the future, you create conditions in which growth can happen naturally, in its own time.

Sound counterintuitive? It is! We’re so used to doing more to get more. The notion of not striving feels like giving up. But think of a Chinese finger trap: the harder you pull, the tighter it gets. Effortless effort (what Taoism calls wu wei, or non-doing) can accomplish what force cannot.

That doesn’t mean being passive or lazy; it means aligning with how life actually works – in the present – rather than constantly trying to outsmart it.