What No Longer Appeals to Me — And Why That’s a Good Thing

There was a time I thrived in the noise.

I built a career in fast-paced tech environments, led multi-million-dollar sales deals, flew across continents, and helped companies scale at speed. The world called it success. I did too. For a while.

But something shifted — quietly, over years — like the tide returning to shore.

It’s not that I lost my edge. I still love building, solving problems, connecting with others. I’m as curious as ever, and deeply driven. But where I once sought the next thing to win, now I look inward — toward the next layer to dissolve.

That shift — from chasing to choosing — has been the most liberating transformation of my life.

As I’ve grown, certain things just… stopped appealing. And in that quiet letting go, I’ve discovered a kind of intelligence that isn’t measured in IQ points, but in stillness. A kind that values meaning over momentum.

1. Small talk no longer excites me.

I crave depth. Not the kind that floods you all at once, but the kind that sits with you — unhurried, honest, raw. Whether I’m mentoring a startup founder, helping a nonprofit realign their strategy, or talking to a stranger at the airport through Travelers Aid, I want to ask: “What’s keeping you up at night? What do you really want to build? Who do you want to be?”

2. Trendy things bore me.

I’m no longer interested in keeping up — with gadgets, hype cycles, or popularity contests. I’m more fascinated by timelessness: the wisdom of Ramana Maharshi, the elegance of silence, the subtle rhythm of helping someone without expecting a return. I still love technology, but only when it serves consciousness, not ego.

3. I’ve lost the urge to argue.

Debate once felt like a badge of honor. Now I see it as a detour. There’s nothing to win in being “right” if it comes at the cost of presence. I’m more interested in understanding — or even just holding space for not knowing. As Ramana says: “Silence is also conversation.”

4. I don’t want to be the Doer.

Perhaps the most profound shift: I no longer need to control every outcome. Business, relationships, even my ambitions — I still put in the work, but I’ve stopped gripping so tightly. Everything I’ve done thus far has been by the Lord’s grace. Everything moving forward will be too.

5. Consumption has given way to creation.

I consume less — less media, less noise, fewer opinions. I create more. Words, projects, gardens, conversations. And most importantly: space. Space to think. To rest. To return to the Self.

Some might say this is the natural evolution of intelligence. But to me, it’s not about growing smarter. It’s about growing still.

I don’t need the entire world to understand this shift.

But if you’ve ever found yourself wondering why the things that once thrilled you now leave you strangely empty — maybe this journey is yours too.

I haven’t lost my ambition. I’ve just redefined it.

I want to grow — not upward, but inward.

To help — not for credit, but because it’s natural.

To live — not louder, but truer.

And if you’re on this path too — whether you’re building something new, letting go of something old, or simply pausing to breathe — know this:

You’re not alone. And you’re not behind.

You’re just returning to what’s real.

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Written by someone who once thought growth meant acceleration — and now believes it might just mean surrender.